


No Longer Fullmetal

by Who_Watches_the_Watchman



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ed-level swearing, Explosions, First Kiss, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind control alchemy, Roy needs time, Slow Burn, letter writing, spoilers for Brotherhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6352051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Who_Watches_the_Watchman/pseuds/Who_Watches_the_Watchman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*Spoilers for Brotherhood*</p>
<p>After the Promised Day, Edward is left without his alchemy. Now, two years later, after Al's left for Xing, he has to decide his own path. He just didn't think it'd lead him back to Central, to the Bastard that waits there.<br/>Roy's been working since the Promised Day without stop and he's already next in line to become Fuhrer after Grumman steps down. But there are people out there that would like to stop him before he gets there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After the Promised Day

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is almost finished. I'm just having some technical difficulties with the end.  
> Me; this isn't dramatic enough. Let's add a fight scene!  
> Four hours later... why did I ever think this was a good idea?  
> Also I'm not sure about the spelling for Fuhrer but this was how I found it online so it's what I used.

It was beyond amazing; it was unbelievable. Al was restored. Little more than a skeleton but flesh once again.

Ed didn’t think he’d ever get tired of it. He’d eaten the noodles that Ed brought from that place down the street and his eyes had shone and he had smiled so wide that Ed had wanted to cry. But hadn’t because that was girly.

The point was; Al was back.

It was over. All the searching, all the missions, all the crazy chases, the Homunculi, Father, everything. He was still the Fullmetal Alchemist but it was only in name and everyone knew it. He’d gained an arm and lost his alchemy. But that didn’t matter because he’d gotten Al’s body back from the Gate. That was all that mattered.

And most of the time, he could believe it. But sometimes, during the middle of the night, he would wake up from dreams flashing blue light and intricate arrays and he would wonder if there couldn’t have been another way.

Al was asleep, laying still and pale golden against the stark white of the hospital sheets and Ed smiled, leaned forward and patted his hand once, just for the feeling of Al’s skin against his. He rose to his feet, stretched and started for the door.

Then he hesitated. It was only ten o’clock and he hadn’t even seen Mustang since the Promised Day. He knew he was staying in a room just down the hall, he’d seen Ross and Knox going in but he’d been in a hurry to make it back to Al’s side and he hadn’t stopped by.

Ed wondered how he was holding out. He’d been… well, he hadn’t been lame on the Promised Day. He’d picked himself up after seeing the Gate and he’d helped fight against Father despite being struck blind. It had been… cool. That thought made Ed scowl. Since when was anything that bastard did cool?

It had only been two days since the Promised Day and it wasn’t like Ed had gone out of his way to avoid him but now he was curious.

He lifted his shoulders, and walked down the hall and pushed open the door to Mustang’s room. The door slid open soundlessly and he paused on the threshold, not certain how to introduce himself when the sound reached his ears.

Crying. No, sobbing. Mustang was sobbing.

Ed stood, frozen, not quite inside the room and suddenly, he wanted to turn and run and leave the hospital and possibly scrub his ears out as if that would erase the sound from his ears.

Mustang didn’t cry. He was smug and arrogant most of the time. And he could be concerned when one of his men was in danger. He’d been blind with rage at Envy and he’d been repentant to Hawkeye afterward. He’d been panicked after seeing the Gate and then determined against Father. But he’d never been in tears before.

Then, one choked off word reached his ears, “Maes.”

It was as if an icy hand closed over his stomach. Without thinking, he retreated back across the threshold, and shut the door soundlessly. He leaned against it, tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling and closed his eyes. When he’d first heard Mustang crying he’d assumed it was because he’d lost his sight.

It had never occurred to him that as he clung to Al, so Mustang clung to Hughes. That while he was fiercely independent of everyone else, he needed Al’s presence in his life to make him whole just like Mustang needed Hughes’.

It had been several months since Hughes died and the weight had never really gone away. He couldn’t look at Gracia or Elysia without seeing the empty space where Hughes should have been.

 He hunched his shoulders and opened his eyes before making his decision. He turned, grasped the handle and threw the door open, making sure that it slammed against the opposite wall. “Hey, bastard!” He said loudly and flicked on the light switch.

Mustang had his back to him and he didn’t turn at the entrance. “Fullmetal,” he said and if Ed hadn’t been listening for it he wouldn’t have heard the slight catch on the second syllable.

Ed strode into the room, glanced around, noting the other empty bed and pulled up on of the chairs. “Not anymore,” he said, gazing at the back of Mustang’s head. His hair had gotten longer and hung almost to the base of his neck now. “Saw Knox coming in earlier, what did he say?”

There was a moment of silence before Mustang said, “He brought Doctor Marcoh with him. He had a Philosopher’s Stone.”

Ed stiffened. “Where did he get it?”

“It was one of the ones that Kimblee had. He used it to heal Havoc.”

Ed struggled with that for a minute before accepting it. “Well, I guess that’s okay. It wasn’t Havoc’s fault he was injured.”

There was a heartbeat of silence then Mustang sat up and turned slowly to face him. Ed caught his breath in shock. Mustang’s eyes were dark and clear and focused on his face.

“But-but you were blind!” Ed sputtered, staring in shock.

“Marcoh used the stone to give me my sight back,” Mustang said quietly, meeting his gaze steadily.

Ed recoiled in his chair, his face reflecting all his shock and horror. He forced himself to sit still and worked his jaw for a moment, staring at the floor before he lifted his eyes to meet Mustang’s. “You didn’t even think about the fact that you were using people’s lives?” He said, his voice low and harsh.

“Fullmetal, they’re already dead,” Mustang said. Then his eyebrow twitched. “And why is it alright for Havoc to be healed using the Stone but not me?”

“You saw the Gate,” Ed said, only just controlling his temper. How could Mustang have let Marcoh do that? Use people’s lives like that?

Mustang’s jaw clenched. “Without my consent.”

“You still saw it! And now your payment means nothing!” His voice rose to a shout and he shoved his chair backward and rose to his feet to pace back and forth.

“Fullmetal, not using the Stone wouldn’t bring the people that died for it back to life,” Mustang said, still calm and collected. “I understand why you didn’t want to use the stone but the same reasons do not apply to Lieutenant Havoc or myself.”

“You don’t understand!” Ed shouted, stopping to glare at him.

“Yes, I do,” Mustang said, and it didn’t matter that he was sitting in a hospital bed with sheets tucked around his waist, or that his hair was shaggy or that he had several day’s stubble on his cheeks or that he was wearing a plain white shirt; he was every inch the bastard Colonel behind his desk. “You refused to use other’s lives to set right your mistakes because you made them yourselves and using other peoples’ sacrifices seemed wrong and perhaps also because it wouldn’t help anyone else; only you and your brother. But Lieutenant Havoc and my injuries were not of our causing and we do have something to offer others. I already have plans on restoring Ishval and Lieutenant Hawkeye has been helping me prepare something official to put past Grumman as soon as we’re finished. We’re going to return their holy lands to the Ishvalans.” He leaned forward, his eyes intense. “We have something to offer, Fullmetal.”

Ed stood still, staring at him, his mouth hanging open before it snapped shut. “So that’s what you think?” He snarled. “Al and I have nothing to offer, huh? We’re incapable of helping other people, are we? Screw you, Mustang. Screw this.” He turned and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

He avoided Mustang’s room like the plague for the next few days until he found out that Mustang had been released the morning after he visited him and was presumably back in his office, playing his stupid manipulation games and angling for a new promotion.

Al always managed to push his foul mood away and he didn’t mention Mustang or his healed sight. But finally, one morning, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Marcoh used a Stone to heal Havoc’s legs,” he said suddenly, staring down at the empty plate he held in his hands.

“Oh?” Al sounded interested but not surprised. “Didn’t he give Colonel Mustang his sight back too?”

Ed’s head snapped up and he stared at his little brother. “How did you know that?”

Al shrugged. “It makes sense, brother. If the Stone could have restored what the Gate took from us, then it could restore what the Gate took from Colonel Mustang.”

“But he could have refused!”

Al gave him a long, slow look that clearly said; Brother, you’re being an idiot. “Why would he have done that, Brother?”

“Because he used a Stone! People died to create it!” Ed snapped, glancing around to make sure that he wasn’t overheard but they were still alone in the hospital room.

 “That wasn’t his fault,” Al said.

“But-but,” Ed sputtered.

“Just because we chose not to use the Stone to heal ourselves doesn’t mean that other people would or even should, Brother. We caused the problem ourselves when we tried to bring Mom back and it wouldn’t have been equivalent exchange if we’d used someone else’s sacrifice to fix it. But Lieutenant Havoc was paralyzed because he was hunting the Homunculi, not because he committed a taboo. Colonel Mustang lost his eyesight because the Homunculi forced him through the portal of Truth without his consent. Again, that happened because he was fighting Father and the Homunculi. It wasn’t his fault so why would you expect him to refuse Marcoh’s offer?”

Ed stared at his little brother. It made sense. Of course it did. If the world operated on the basis of equivalent exchange, then Havoc and Mustang had only been returned what had been taken from them.

Ed sighed and looked down at his hands.

“Didn’t the Colonel tell you the same thing?” Al asked.

“How did you know I saw the Colonel?” Ed demanded, his head snapping back up.

“He told me.”

Ed’s mouth fell open. “When did you see the bastard?”

Al looked amused. “You have to leave to get food sometimes. Mostly you bring it back to me which I am very grateful for, and he came by the morning he was released. Said he wanted to see me in the flesh for the first time.” Al beamed. “He said that I looked very much like you.”

Ed blinked. Opened his mouth. Shut it again. Had Mustang complimented him by way of his brother or had he just been insulted?

He studied Al. No, nobody could say that Al wasn’t beautiful. Wait, did that mean that Mustang was calling him beautiful? Was he calling him a girl?

Al saw his face turning red and interrupted his thoughts before he exploded. “I can’t wait to go back to Resembool and see Winry and Granny.”

Ed smiled, imaging the look on Winry’s face when she saw Al restored. “Al?”

“Yes, brother?”

“I know you got along really well with Mei.” Al predictably blushed. “But… you don’t have any feelings for Winry, do you? I mean, I know that we fought about it when we were kids, about who was going to marry her and… do you still want to?”

Al gave him a knowing look, grinned and leaned over to poke his arm. “Why, brother? Are you and Winry a thing now?”

Ed spluttered and yelled and finally subsided. “You’re really not interested in her?” He ventured.

“No, Brother. I love Winry like a sister but nothing more.” He got a dreamy look in his eyes and stared into the distance. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Once my body’s stronger there’s no reason that I couldn’t go visit Xing. And research Alkehestry. I’m sure that Ling would be willing to lend me some Alchestrist to teach me.”

“Probably.” Ed was quiet for a while, staring at nothing. “You think he’ll make a good Emperor?”

“Of course, Brother! Don’t you?”

“He’s only sixteen,” Ed pointed out.

“So are you, and it didn’t stop you from saving Amestris.”

“Yeah, but ruling a country is… you know… longer. It’s not a onetime thing. It’s something he’s going to be doing for the rest of his life.”

“Maybe he and Colonel Mustang will establish trading routes once he becomes Furher.”

“Picture that. The bastard and the mooch ruling two countries. You really think he’ll become Furher, Al? I mean, they made Grumman Furher, not him.”

“But Furher Grumman’s going to promote him to Brigadier general.”

“How do you know that?”

“Colonel Mustang told me when he stopped by. He said that Grumman was going to do it as soon as he came back to work so I guess we should call him General Mustang now. But you know, I’ve been thinking about it and I think that the reason that they didn’t make him Furher yet is because he’s still so young. I don’t think anyone would feel very comfortable swearing in a twenty-nine-year-old right now. General Mustang said that what people need right now is stability. The country needs to be rebuilt now that Father and the Homunculi are gone and Grumman is well known.”

“Isn’t he really old though?”

Al nodded. “Rather old, yes.”

“So if he kicks the bucket in the next few years, Mustang will take over?”

“Brother!” Al’s voice was reproachful and resigned. “I think that’s probably the plan. General Mustang will acquire a few more years of experience and then when the time is right, Furher Grumman will step down and General Mustang will take his place.”

Ed toyed absently with the hem of his shirt before speaking, not looking up. “Do you think… never mind.”

“Do I think what, Brother?”

“Never mind; it’s stupid.”

“It can’t have been stupid if you wanted my opinion.”

Ed took a deep breath and looked up, meeting Al’s bronze eyes. “Do you think that he and Hawkeye will get married?” The words served to tighten a knot in his chest that he hadn’t even been aware was there.

Al’s forehead wrinkled. “Aren’t there rules in the military about relationships between officers?”

“I don’t know. Are there in the military?”

“Are there what in the military?” Second Lieutenant Breda stood in the doorway, his blue coat unbuttoned at the throat. He grinned when they saw him and walked into the room. Ed jumped to his feet and they shook hands and pounded each other on the back until Al held out his hand and Breda stopped trying to knock Ed down and went and shook it heartily without any of the delicacy that most people handed skeletal Al with.

“Second Lieutenant Breda, what are you doing here?” Al asked eagerly.

Breda puffed out his chest a bit. “It’s Lieutenant now,” he said, grinning.

After the required congratulations, Breda sat down in the seat that Ed had vacated and pulled a file from under his coat to hand to Ed. “Your discharge papers. Mustang got them all written up for you so you can sign them whenever you want.”

Ed took the file and flicked it open. Pages stared back at him and he picked out a few words, ‘honorable’ ‘military’ ‘commanding officer’ ‘duty’ ‘released from service’.

“You’ll be a free man,” Breda said grinning. “Oh, and you’ll have to hand in your pocket watch.”

Ed stared down at the paper and wondered why his stomach suddenly felt like it was hollow. He’d just eaten a big lunch with Al; so why did he feel like there was a hole burning its way through him? “Great, thanks, Breda,” He managed, lifting his head and forcing a smile. “I’ll turn them into the bastard sometime.”

Breda nodded and stood up. “Wish I could stay but there’s still quite a bit of work to be done. We made it through the Promised Day; now we’ve got to clean up.” He sighed then grinned. “Kind of like that time you and General Mustang had an alchemy fight on the parade grounds.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ed grumbled, still sore that the bastard had beaten him.

Al and Breda shared a laugh and he started to leave before stopping just inside the door and turned back around. “What were you talking about when I came in? Are there what in the military?”

“We were talking about whether General Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye will get married and if there are rules in the military against it,” Al said before Ed could stop him, somehow feeling embarrassed about the whole thing.

Breda stared at him for a minute then grinned. “Mustang and Hawkeye?” He chuckled. “Kids. You see everything but what’s really there.”

Ed bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Breda’s grin widened. “Don’t you think that they’d have gotten married by now if they were going to?”

“But Mustang wants to be Furher,” Al said, clearly as offended as Ed.

“Getting married to the current Furher’s granddaughter wouldn’t hurt his chances of becoming the next Furher,” Breda said. “But it’ll never happen.” He shook his head, smirking and raised a hand in a wave before leaving.

Ed looked down at his hands, knowing something had changed and finally realized that the knot in his chest had relaxed. He frowned, puzzled, but then Al was talking again and he turned his full attention on him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He turned his discharge papers into Mustang at his office a couple days later and then stood in front of his desk as he handed over his silver pocket watch.

Mustang accepted it with his usual expressionless face and placed it on top of his desk. “What will you do now, Fullm- Edward?”

Ed rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, trying not to look at his pocket watch. “I’m going to take Al home to Resembool. He should be strong enough to travel in another week or so. He’ll do the rest of his recovering with Winry and Granny.”

“And then?” Mustang prompted.

Ed shrugged. “We’re going to go visit the people that have helped us along the way and give them our thanks. Then, well, we’re still talking about what comes next.”

Mustang nodded, glancing down at his papers for a moment before he raised his head again and rose to his feet. “I guess this is goodbye then, Edward,” he smiled suddenly and Ed was temporarily blinded. He had seen Mustang smile before not just in smug condescension or mocking amusement but in genuine pleasure. But it had never been focused on him before.

He had to blink several times before he saw Mustang’s hand extended over his desk and hesitated for a minute before he grasped it and they shook hands. And suddenly, Ed can’t stop the words, they spilled out before he’d even realized they were in his mouth, “I’m sorry. About General Hughes. That he died.” He stopped, appalled at himself. What was he thinking?

Mustang’s face closed off and he withdrew his hand, sitting back down in his chair and looking down at his paperwork again. He picked up his pen and began writing his signature without responding.

Ed hesitated, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket without noticing. Wasn’t the bastard going to say something? He had to speak, just to break the silence. “I know that he was your best friend and that losing him was hard but at least you have Hawkeye and Havoc and Breda and Falman and Fuery.”

Mustang looked up at him, his expression still blank but his eyes glittering like the shards of broken diamonds; too bright to look at and impossible to look away from. “That will be all, Fullmetal. If you ever wish to stop by when you’re in Central, you and your brother would be welcome.”

Ed hesitated then nodded and forced himself to smile around the lump in his throat. “Later, bastard.” But he didn’t want to walk away. He hated the military and everything it stood for, he did! He was thrilled to be a free man, he was! He wasn’t going to miss anyone here, particularly not the bastard behind the desk!

But he didn’t want to leave.

_Winry_ , whispered part of his mind. _Winry, Granny, Den, Resembool._

_Mustang_ , whispered his traitorous excuse for a heart. _Mustang, Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, Falman, Fuery, Mrs. Hughes, Elysia, Central._

_I have a future with Winry,_ he reminded himself.

_In Resembool?_ He couldn’t stop himself from thinking it. _Resembool where the most exciting thing that happened was the annual sheep festival? Resembool where everyone grew crops and raised animals and sat around the fire at night? Resembool where they knew nothing of the military or what his life had been like for the past three years?_

_Resembool where there’s nothing to do?_

_It’s home_ , he reminded himself.

_No, home isn’t a place. Wherever Al is, is where my home is._

But Al was going to have his own life soon. He would be leaving for Xing as soon as he was strong enough and he’d be off to Creta.

He turned abruptly away from Mustang’s desk and hurried toward the door. But Mustang’s words haunted his footsteps all the way out of the building.

“Goodbye, Edward.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So he and Al went back to Resembool and spent several months helping Al get his strength back. Ed was thrilled when they had their first sparring match since Al had gotten out of the armor partly because he won but mostly because Al was getting better. He was going to be whole again.

He enjoyed the time. It was a relief; for once there was nothing to be done. Amestris had been saved, Al had his body back and they were safe.

 Now he was left pondering the succinct ‘now what?’

Travel, research and then what? Was that what he wanted for the rest of his life?

The day came that he saw Al off on the train and then he was at the station waiting for the train and Winry was with him.

“I’ll give you half of my life if you’ll give me half of yours!”

There, he’d done it. That was as good as a proposal, right? That was what he was supposed to do. Winry was great, they’d known each since they were kids, this was the next step, wasn’t it?

He sat down in his seat on the train and stared out the window. His mind wanted to be putting arrays together and coming up with new theories but his stomach wouldn’t let him.

It churned and roiled as if there were a pair of snakes fighting in it and Ed soon felt sick. He jumped out of his seat, dodged past the other passengers, out the door between cars and leaned over the railing as his breakfast decided to make its reappearance.

“What the fuck?” He muttered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. What was wrong with him? He should feel happy. He had found the woman he wanted to marry! Wasn’t that a good thing?

_I can’t marry her._ The thought rose unbidden and unwelcome in his mind.

_What?_ He shrieked internally. _Of course, I can marry her!_

_Why?_ Prompted his thoughts.

Ed was stunned at that. Why? Because she was Winry and he was Ed and that was reason enough, right?

Even as he thought it, he knew it wasn’t.

_Because I love her,_ he thought. Surely that would be the end of it.

It seemed to be because he didn’t have any argument for that. He leaned against the railing, feeling the wind ruffling his hair and brushing against his skin.

_But I don’t love her enough to stay._

Ed’s gut tightened and he took a deep breath. He wasn’t his father, he wasn’t! He would travel for a few years and then he would come home and marry the woman he loved and…

_And what? Raise crops? Take care of the kids while Winry works?_

_No! Please no!_

_But I’m not an alchemist anymore._

_I could do consulting work in Central for the military. I could take research projects. I could be an ambassador for Xing and help establish relations between our nations. I could do so much! I can’t do any of that from Resembool._

Ed buried his face in his hands and swallowed hard.

_I don’t love her enough to stay. Resembool isn’t my home._

_Winry. What have I done?_

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It started because he was far away from everything familiar and desperate to talk to someone that already knew why he had an auto mail leg and why he knew so much about alchemy and yet couldn’t perform it. It started because Central was in a way his home and he missed the people that had been there for the past three years of his life.

And that, when it came right down to it, was it. They had been there.

They had been there.

He started writing to Mustang.

It took a while to get over the fifteen-year-old him scorn and mockery and he started three letters that never made it past the first paragraph and which he promptly burned instead of finishing.

  The fourth time he did it he wrote Mustang’s name at the top and found that the only words his pen was inclined to write were; I fucked up.

And then he added; How is everyone?

Then he sat back and looked at his letter. What else needed to be said?

A small part of him realized that this was just a means of getting Mustang’s advice.

Ed’s lip curled. _How pathetic am I? When I don’t know what to do, I go running back to the person that pulled me out of my misery and self-loathing over losing Al’s body and my arm and leg. Why? Why am I doing this?_

And he knew the reason. Because his life-shaking problem was small in comparison to what Mustang dealt with every day. Because Mustang could deal with it and wouldn’t be fazed.

So he sent the letter and waited for an answer.

He stumbled home from the library late one night to find his mail slid under the door of his apartment. He leaned down and picked what little there was up and flicked through it. There wasn’t much; a bill, an invitation to a party from one of his neighbors that he’d met quite by accident and at the bottom, a letter from Central. From Brigadier General Mustang.

Ed tore the letter open, ignoring his reaction of; he responded, WTF?

 

Dear Edward, (there would be time to analyze that later) I was pleasantly surprised to receive your letter. Everyone here in Central is fine. Elysia turned five a few weeks ago and Gracia graciously invited everyone from work. Armstrong’s gift of a tiny statuesque of himself, sans shirt, was received with great fascination. I believe Gracia confiscated it; something about Elysia being too young to play with bare-chested men. Havoc and Breda naturally found the whole thing hilarious but Hawkeye gave them a Look and they didn’t say anything.

Havoc’s therapy continues very well. He’s recovering the use of his legs although the process is extremely painful and taxing. He’s not giving up but he does go through a pack of cigarette a day. Every time I see him on his feet, I have to admit that it was all worth it.

Hawkeye continues as well as ever and we see more of Black Hayate these days because she hates to leave him at home during these beautiful spring days.

Spring has come in all its splendor and it is a trial to remain indoors so much of the time when everything is unfurling and growing.

Grumman is enjoying heaping more paperwork on me than ever before and insists that it’s for my own good while he find other ways to occupy his time. Fortunately, we have managed to send an ambassador to Xing and have received one as well. He is a half-brother to Emperor Yao and his name is Quan Bli. He seems to have very little in common with his half-brother and is much more scholarly and bland, an excellent combination for an ambassador.

What happened? Did you and Al have a fight? Or did you get into trouble in Creta?

Sincerely, Brigadier General Roy Mustang.

 

He wrote back. Fuck.

He wrote back.

He hadn’t expected that. He wasn’t sure what he had expected but this wasn’t it. He’d written a total of two sentences and Mustang responded with a full page of neat handwriting. He could have just had Falman type something out but he hadn’t. He’d taken the time and written back.

Did that mean… did that mean that Mustang missed him too?

Ed felt his face flush and angrily threw the letter on the window sill and stalked out of the room.

After thinking about it for a while, he decided that Mustang was simply being polite. They had after all, been through hell together, there was a certain comradery there. There had to be because there was no way that Mustang would take the time to write to him just because he wanted to. He probably felt like he owed Ed or something.

So that meant that it would be impolite to not write back, right? This didn’t make them friends or anything. Just… acquaintances that happened to share correspondence.

Yeah, he could live with that.

So he wrote back.

 

Bastard;

I’m glad to hear about Elysia and Gracia. I think about them a lot. I hope Havoc gets full control of his legs soon. Things are going well here in Creta. I’ve been investigating their type of alchemy. It’s so strange; get this, they use squares! Squares! It’s like learning a completely different language. Their alchemy is much more artistically based if you can believe it, there’s this thing called form and design which is bullshit because I’ve got a perfectly fine sense of style.

No, nothing’s wrong with Al and me. We’re fine.

It’s… well, actually it’s Winry. I’m sure you remember her; my automail mechanic from Resembool? Well, I’ve known her since we were little kids and just before I left for Creta, I asked her to marry me and she said yes. And now I don’t know what to do because I can’t fucking marry her. I’d be a shit husband and I’d always be traveling and she doesn’t deserve that.

So. How do I tell her that I can’t marry her when I just asked her to?

Sincerely NOT yours, Edward Elric.

 

Roy’s answer came two weeks later.

 

Dear Edward;

I thought you would be interested in hearing that Falman has asked to be transferred back to General Armstrong’s command for a while. It seems that the North agreed with him more than he let on. He thinks that there is much he could learn yet from General Armstrong.

In the meantime, Central is consistently being returned to normal. The process is slow, which is only to be expected but Furher Grumman is making steps and it is breathtaking to be involved in the process. This past week the order for the Ishvalans’ holy lands to be returned to them went through and was met with approval from Parliament.

Major Hawkeye and I will be returning to Ishval to finalize plans with Major Miles and Scar. It will be strange to see the place again after all these years.

Gracia has been talking lately of moving out of Central to the West to be with her family. It feels selfish to wish that she wouldn’t yet I know that I cannot offer her the support that her family will be able to. Central would feel very empty with her and Elysia’s presence.

Major Armstrong has been a pillar of support during these past few weeks. His status as one of the old families’ nobility and compassionate nature as well as his determination to help his fellow man have made him something of favorite among the civilians and he’s become something of a symbol of goodwill. Much like you.

Alphonse wrote to tell me that he is learning how to feel the Dragon’s Pulse, or Qi as he refers to it. I understand that he has a certain young princess assisting him in that matter. I was unaware of the mutual attraction before but Alphonse speaks of her in such glowing terms that I wonder how I missed it before.

May I ask why you asked Winry to marry you if you didn’t want to marry her? Perhaps a better question would be; why don’t you want to marry her? I was under the impression that you were very close. She was the person that Bradley used to keep you in line before the Promised Day.

Sincerely yours, Brigadier General Roy Mustang.

 

Damn the bastard for being so… likeable. Had he always been likeable or was it just because he was no longer Ed’s C.O. that he suddenly seemed so friendly?

He had never really seemed human before. Of course, Ed knew that he was. He knew, in theory, that Mustang ate, slept, laughed with friends.

_With Hughes_ , his heart whispered, tightening. He knew that Mustang felt angry and hurt and had a home to go to at the end of the day and… family?

 

Bastard;

I asked her to marry me because it seemed like the next step, all right? Like, Al got his body back and now I have my own life to think about and everybody ends up with somebody and I always thought it would be me and Winry, so I asked. And because I do love her, but like a sister not like a wife.

Which is why I don’t want to marry her. And I don’t think that we’d be able to live together without killing each other. But I don’t know how to take back my proposal without damaging our friendship. Because I still want us to be friends.

What about you and Hawkeye? Weren’t you ever a thing? What did you do when it ended?

And fuck, since when does Al write to you?

Sincerely still NOT yours, Edward Elric

 

There was a nice bar not far from his apartment. And by nice, he meant that the glasses were clean and the beer tasted like it hadn’t been based in motor oil.

He was sitting on one of the stools, morosely contemplating his second glass when someone slid onto the seat next to him.

Ed turned his head and looked at the guy that was sitting next to him. He ordered whiskey, turned to meet Ed’s gaze and smiled. “Rough day?” He asked, nodding toward Ed’s glass.

“Not really,” Ed muttered, turning back to stare at it and wondering why this stranger was trying to strike up a conversation with him. He took another drink from his glass then set it down again. “It’s just… I kind of made a mistake a few months ago and I don’t know how to fix it.” He must have been drunk to say that to a complete stranger.

The man extended his hand. “I’m Rowan.”

Ed let go of his glass long enough to shake it. “Ed,” he muttered.

“What kind of a mistake?” Rowan asked, as the bartender handed him his drink and moved away to serve someone else.

Ed winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I kind of… asked a girl to marry me.”

“Ouch,” the man said with a wince. “And she said no?”

Ed laughed bitterly. “She said _yes_.”

“So what’s the problem?” The guy asked causally. Almost too causally.

Ed shot him a sideways look and narrowed his eyes. Rowan wasn’t looking at him. He was drawing patterns in the condensation on his glass. He wasn’t bad looking, Ed thought idly. He looked older than Ed, maybe in his mid-twenties, clean-shaven with a nice button-down shirt on and a pair of dark slacks. He looked almost like a young professor without the glasses. 

“I don’t want to marry her,” Ed said.

Rowan blinked, and looked at him. “Why’d you ask her to marry you then?”

Ed groaned and put his forehead down on the counter. “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he muttered.

“And now it doesn’t? What changed?”

“I started thinking about what it would be like. Staying in one place. Having kids,” he shuddered. “I think I’d have rather kept working for the army.”

“You used to work for the army?” Rowan asked, sounding surprised. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen,” Ed said. “The bastard would probably have let me stay if I’d wanted to. Actually,” he squinted, trying to remember. “I think he said something about it. But I was ready to get the fuck out of there and I didn’t stop to think.” He laughed again, even more bitterly this time. “It’s kind of a bad habit of mine; I don’t think things through.”

Rowan turned to face him on the bar stool and leaned forward, catching Ed’s arm and turning him toward him. “Then don’t think about this,” he whispered and leaned forward.

Ed didn’t know what he was doing until Rowan’s lips were pressed to his and then he almost jumped out of his skin and jerked back and almost fell off the barstool. “What the fuck!” He meant to shout but it came out as a gasp instead.

Rowan tilted his head to the side and blinked. He looked more confused than apologetic. “I’m… sorry. Are you not… interested in men?”

“Not like that!”

“Really?”

Ed stared at him and opened his mouth. Then stopped and closed it. He wasn’t… gay, right? He’d never been attracted to girls, sure, but he’d never been attracted to men either.

He opened his mouth then stopped again. That wasn’t true. He had been attracted to a man before… but he’d never made any advances and Ling had never shown the slightest interest in him like that so nothing had come of it. But there had been a time when he’d thought… if Ling had been interested… if he’d said something or done something that maybe they would have…

But they hadn’t and Ling was back in Xing now.

But Rowan was here, right now and he was interested.

Ed hesitated. He didn’t know this guy but maybe it was better that way. If he didn’t know the guy, then he couldn’t care about him and if he didn’t care then it wouldn’t hurt when he left.

Ed twisted a strand of hair around his finger and looked back at Rowan who was still there, still waiting.

“Okay, maybe I am,” he admitted, shifting his gaze back to his drink. The alcohol must have loosened his tongue because he heard himself adding, “But I’ve never actually… had anyone.”

Rowan smiled, looking sly and leaned forward. “I can fix that,” he said softly into Ed’s ear.

Ed didn’t protest when he kissed him again. He even kissed him back, awkward and clumsy and drunk as he was. It was all a bit of a blur after that; he remembered small things, staggering back to his apartment, trying to kiss him and walk at the same time, the feel of Rowan’s fingers running over his chest, the mattress under him and Rowan over him, hair tickling his chest.

The next morning, he woke up to find Rowan gone and he laid in bed for a while, wondering if he should write and tell Al that his brother was gay. He wondered if Al already knew. He wondered why Al had never said anything.

He thought that it was a onetime thing. He thought he’d never see Rowan again. But he turned up at the bar again and this time he bought Ed a drink and they talked about Creta and their families and their jobs and normal things. He laughed at Ed’s jokes and kept brushing his fingers against the back of his hand when he reached for his glass at the same time as Ed and he was… nice. Friendly. Pleasant company.

He wasn’t sure when it happened but one day, several weeks after they’d started… whatever the fuck it was, late at night, he rolled over in bed and looked at Rowan and his breath caught. Because Rowan had his back to him and his hair was tangled and in the dim light, it looked black.

Ed sucked in a breath as his imagination stepped in and painted another man in his place, a man with hair so black it looked blue when the light caught it, a man with eyes blacker than the sins that haunted him, a man built like a legend, a man who could bring a country to its knees with a snap of his fingers.

Ed sat up, drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, trying to breathe normally.

He wasn’t - Mustang had never- he couldn’t- Fuck!

He wanted to scream. He wanted to pound his fist against the wall until it broke. He wanted to be content with what he _had_.

Rowan was great. He actually was a professor of literature and he was interesting and engaging and pleasant. He had never killed anyone and he could cook, which was great because Ed burned _toast_. He had a sense of humor, he wasn’t complicated. He liked a drink and he liked Ed and Ed had never been liked like that before.

“Damn it,” he whispered and tried to burrow into his knees.

He was Edward Elric! The former Fullmetal Alchemist! He didn’t need anyone to make his life complete, damn it! Well, maybe Al but he was family! That was allowed!

He sank back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling even though he couldn’t actually see it because the room was still dark. He wasn’t interested in Roy fucking Mustang. He couldn’t be.

The next day was a Saturday and they agreed to stay in. They got up and made and ate breakfast and then Rowan pulled out one of his books and curled up on the sofa and Ed sat next to him and tried to read the latest alchemy theory from Amestris.

At one point, Rowan got up and went to the kitchen for a drink and when he came back, he had the mail in one hand. “It was pushed under the door,” he said with a smile as he handed it to Ed before resuming his spot on the couch.

There was a letter from Mustang.

Ed stared at it as though it was going to go up in flames or perhaps bite him and a terrible thought crept through him. What if Mustang knew? What if he knew that Ed wanted him?

He shook the thought aside with a snort. That was ridiculous. There was no way the bastard could know; Ed had only found out last night and there was no way that the bastard could have guessed.

“Something wrong?” Rowan asked, regarding him curiously.

“No,” Ed said. “Why?”

“You’ve been staring at that envelope for the past ten minutes.” An expression crossed his face too fast for Ed to identify. “It’s not from Winry, is it?”

“No,” Ed said quickly. “It’s not from her.”

Rowan relaxed subtly and leaned forward, reaching for it.

Ed snatched it out of the pile and held it out of reach.

Rowan looked at him in surprise. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just- it’s not important,” Ed lied, feeling his face turn red.

Rowan’s eyebrow twitched but he sat back and went back to his book without comment.

Ed took a deep breath and opened the letter.

 

Dear Edward;

I wondered when you would ask. It seems everyone does at some point. To answer your rather rudely phrased question, Hawkeye and I have never and will never be a ‘thing’. Her father taught me alchemy when I was very young and that’s when I got to know Riza. I have always thought of her as more of a sister than anything else and I respect our friendship far too much to ever pursue something that would only hurt both of us.

If you were hoping that I could offer advice in this area I’m afraid I must disappoint you. Riza is my best friend but we have never been anything more.

If I were to offer my advice, Edward, I’m afraid that it would be horribly unpretentious. I believe your best course of action would be to simply tell Miss Rockbell how you feel. Explain to her that you made a mistake and ask her to forgive you.

Even if you do, I’m afraid that your relationship will still change. If it helps, it would have anyway once you both found partners.

Ask yourself how much you want to save this friendship and act accordingly, Edward. Good friends are few and far between and it would be better to fix things now then let them drag out any longer.

Falman left a few days ago for the North. He plans to return in two years, saying that he’ll be of more use with more practical experience. I admit that I’ll miss seeing him around but I understand his determination.

Ishval was very hot and dry. Scar glared the whole time and Major Miles was mostly silent. I got to shake hands with their high priest and there have only been a few nasty comments made about it by the other generals. Perhaps Ishval will be its own independent nation again someday soon. I certainly hope so.

Sincerely yours, Brigadier General Roy Mustang

 

Ed clutched the letter tight in his fist, gave a half-laugh, half-sob and sank down on the couch, dropping his head into his hands. As if he needed any confirmation.

Rowan sat up and moved next to him. “What is it, Ed? What’s wrong?” His voice was so genuinely concerned that it stabbed Ed right through the chest. Rowan deserved better than this; he deserved better than being a replacement for someone that Ed could never have.

“It’s just…” He waved the letter then swallowed and lifted his head out of his hands. “Rowan,” he said quietly and a little desperately, “why’d you come talk to me that night in the bar?”

Rowan looked surprised and leaned back against the sofa. “Honestly? Because I thought you were stunning and you looked so miserable I wanted to see if I could make you smile. I also wanted to know why you were so sad to see if I could fix it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

_Because I need this to not hurt you. Because you have given me something that I will never be able to pay you back for. Because you are a wonderful person and I don’t know why I would rather have a bastard than you._

Instead he said, “I have to go make things right with Winry.”

“So it is a letter from her? Does she want to know when you’re coming home?”

“No, it’s not a letter from her. I had a C.O. and I asked his advice about what I should do and he told me that I need to go back and tell her and I do, I know I do but I don’t want to hurt her and… she’s going to cry again and it’ll be my fault again…” he buried his face in his hands and groaned.

There was a moment of silence then Rowan spoke, calmly, too casually, “It’s not just that, Ed. You’ve been acting weird all day.”

Ed went still, feeling his breathing catch.

“Did I say something? Is it something I’ve done? Did last night not go-”

“No, fuck! You’ve been great, you’re always great-”

“Then talk to me, Ed. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Silence stretched between them, a cavern that Ed knew he could fix. He could let go of Mustang and hold onto what he had here and be grateful. So why didn’t he? It could be fixed. Rowan was right there, waiting as patient as he always was.

Ed lifted his head and forced himself to meet Rowan’s eyes and tried to speak past the lump of charcoal in his throat.

Rowan met his gaze and understanding flooded his eyes. “Oh,” he said quietly and dropped his gaze to his hands. “It’s over.”

That tore Ed’s voice out of his throat but it was so hoarse he hardly recognized it, “No! No, that’s not what I-”

“Yes, you do,” Rowan said, still not looking at him. “I should have known. I should have known there was someone that made the idea of marrying that girl so repulsive. I should have known that I was just a replacement.”

“That’s not true,” Ed croaked.

“Don’t lie to me.” Rowan’s voice was too carefully flat but when he finally raised his head, his eyes were flashing and he leaned forward and grabbed Ed’s chin in a too tight grip and glared at him. “Tell me there isn’t someone else. Tell me!”

Ed swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. “I can’t… I can’t say it and not lie,” he whispered.

It hurt him. Ed could see it. He looked like someone had stabbed a knife down his throat; pained and miserable.

He let go of Ed’s chin and sighed. “That’s what I thought.”

And Ed thought, _I never knew breaking someone’s heart hurt this much._

Rowan gathered his things and left. He didn’t say anything and Ed was both relieved and disappointed by that. Wasn’t there something to be said for first love?

But of course, even as he thought it, he knew that it wasn’t. If Rowan had been his first love, then he wouldn’t have ended their relationship. He would have clung on and made it work. And really, that was the problem, Ed realized. He hadn’t been looking for a relationship; he’d been looking for a distraction. He’d been desperate to feel something besides lost and purposeless and Rowan had given him that feeling for a few weeks.

He’d only been gone from Amestris for six months but he knew he had to go back. This thing with Winry couldn’t just be settled over the phone or in a letter. She deserved better than that and if Ed didn’t want to have to get a new automail mechanic, and he really didn’t, he was going to have to be open and honest with her.

He chickened out just before getting on the train to Resembool though and instead got on one headed for Central. No reason, he tried to tell himself. He’d been gone for half a year, after all, and he missed seeing everyone. It wasn’t that he wanted to see… a certain bastard again.

Okay, maybe he did really want to see a certain bastard.

Central didn’t seem to have changed much from the outside but Ed saw more people out and about, more children playing out in yards, relaxed and happy and he wondered if these were the sort of things that Mustang pointed at as examples of things changing. Not to policies and treaties but the way normal people could walk down the street with confidence.

That was what the Homunculi had taken from the nation; that certainty that they were safe. Of course, they weren’t safe, not really but the illusion was too precious for Ed to want to shatter. He ran across a state alchemist out repairing a row of buildings and he smiled. Maybe Mustang really could change things, he thought, his heart lifting. Maybe things could be better. Maybe.

He was still smiling when he walked into Central Command although the smile dimmed when the soldier at the gate asked for military clearance. Eventually he asked him to ring Major Hawkeye and the private reached for the phone.

Despite the delay, he was still smiling when Central Command exploded.

 


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed meets up with Roy's team and learns something he might have been better off not knowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter was a great deal longer than the others. Sorry to get your hopes up.

It was like pain; one minute it wasn’t there and the next it was and consuming all of your thoughts.

The blast wasn’t powerful enough to reach them at the gate but Ed still staggered backward several steps, raising an arm to block his face in case of shrapnel.

“What the-” The private next to him stammered, his eyes wide as he stared.

Ed didn’t speak. He bolted toward the building, but the private didn’t call him back. It was evident from the distance, clear and obvious what section the blast had originated under. The west corner.

Ed sped up. Mustang’s office was in that corner. He didn’t have his alchemy and he had never cursed its absence more in that moment as soldiers poured out of the building and he was caught in their midst, fighting his way against the current of bodies like a sparrow against a strong wind.

“Dammit!” He howled his frustration at the sky, at the soldiers around him, at God but there was no help for it. Adrenaline was coursing through his body and his heart was pounding against his ribs, a different name on his lips with each beat.

Beat. _Hawkeye_.

Beat. _Havoc_.

He twisted to the side and managed to evade a particularly portly soldier that was moving as quickly as his form would allow.

Beat. _Breda_.

He was elbowed mercilessly in the shoulder and he winced at the pain just before someone stepped on his foot.

Beat. _Falman_. No, wait, Falman was in the North. He was safe. He felt a moment of relief at that thought.

He finally broke from the crowd just before the building and shoved his way through the steady stream into the main building and took off running down the hall toward the west corner.

Beat. _Fuery_.

_Please, please, let them be okay!_ Ed begged inside his head and suddenly, there was an enormous frame in front of him, hands planted on the ground and the familiar blue crackle of alchemy working on the caved-in hallway in front of them.

Beat. _Mustang_.

Fuck, _Mustang_.

“Major Armstrong!” He yelled as he ran toward him.

Armstrong turned, his face lighting up in surprise at the sight of Ed. “Edward Elric!” He boomed and took a step toward him, arms opening automatically before his face clouded and he stepped back. “I’m sorry, Edward Elric,” he said, turning back toward the destruction before them. “But there isn’t time for a reunion at the moment.”

“Yeah, I get that. Mustang- Mustang’s men, they’re-they’re in there, aren’t they?” He wanted Armstrong to say that he was wrong, that they’d been transferred to another part of the building but he just nodded solemnly.

There was nothing Ed could do. He hovered at Armstrong’s side, impatient and desperate and fearing the worst and yet hoping for the best until he was sure his body couldn’t hold the tension anymore.

Something dripped onto the back of his hand and he looked down in surprise. Then lifted a hand and brushed at his cheeks. They were wet.

Ed swiped his hands across them almost angrily and glanced at Major Armstrong, hoping he hadn’t noticed his tears but Armstrong was still working his way forward, moving the rubble out of the way and reconstructing the walls and ceiling making sure that it was stable before continuing to the next one. It was slow going and Ed could see the strain on Armstrong’s face but he didn’t suggest stopping and Ed didn’t think he could bear it if he did.

They came across the first soldier after almost ten minutes. She must have just been walking from one office to another but she had been hit by a chunk of masonry and Ed didn’t need a second look to confirm that she was dead.

Armstrong stopped and picked up the small body, tears already streaming down his face.

Ed hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and held out his arms for her. Armstrong seemed to understand and nodded, handing her limp body to him.

Ed took it and turned, heading back the way they’d come. Already someone was in charge and shouting orders outside and soldiers were reentering the building and being directed to do what they could. Ed spotted a few more silver pocket watches as alchemists moved in different directions, each apparently assigned a different area.

Ed carried the woman soldier’s body outside and looked around. A soldier saw him and waved him over. He had several sheets draped over one arm and he gave Ed a grave look. “Lay her down over here,” he said and Ed followed him to a section of pavement that wasn’t in the way and laid down the body.

The soldier looked at her for a moment and sighed. “Master Sergeant Brenda Collins,” he said, unfolded the sheet and covered her with it.

Ed’s throat was too tight to speak. He turned and walked back into the building, back to Armstrong and found that he was no longer alone. Another alchemist was standing at his shoulder, a tall, lean man with fiery red hair and a focused expression on his face.

Whenever Armstrong had completed a transmutation, he moved forward and performed the next one. Then while he caught his breath, Armstrong did the next.

Ed didn’t speak to him and he didn’t speak to Ed although he might have wondered why he was dressed in civilian clothes instead of the uniform. Ed removed a grand total of four more bodies and felt some relief that only two of them were dead. One had a broken leg and needed Ed’s help to walk out and the other had some cracked ribs and what was probably a nasty concussion but at least they would both make it.

And then-

“Fuery!” Ed cried and ran forward, brushing past the red-haired alchemist and kneeling next to him. Fury’s left leg had a sliver of wood as long as Ed’s arm buried in it, and it looked as though some of the ceiling had struck his shoulder when it fell and blood had stained his normally pristine uniform.

There was a broken radio under one of his arms and it was at once the saddest and most precious thing that Ed had ever seen. “Oh, god, Fuery,” he choked and desperately reached out, placing his hand against his throat, feeling for a pulse.

It was there, slow but steady.

Fuery suddenly coughed and opened his eyes, blinking at Ed from behind broken lens. “Ed,” he gasped out and then winced, clearly in pain. “What-what are you doing here?”

Ed half-laughed, half-sobbed and hugged the small man, careful of his shoulder. “The others,” he said, drawing back and finding that more important than answering his question, “where are the others, Fuery?”

“We,” Fuery squinted as if trying to remember. “We… were all in the library,” he said slowly. “General Mustang, Major Hawkeye, Lieutenant Havoc, Lieutenant Breda and myself but I left to return a radio to communications and that’s-the last thing I remember.”

The library. The beautiful library that was on the ground floor. The terrible library that was on the ground floor.

Ed wanted desperately to run down to the ground floor and start working his way toward the library but someone had to see to Fuery. He clearly needed medical attention. He shifted, getting to his feet and Fuery looked past him and saw the two alchemists.

“Oh, Major Armstrong,” he said. And then, in a completely different tone, “ _Oh_. _Colonel Strange_.”

The red-haired alchemist leaned forward, and placed a hand on Fuery’s good shoulder. “Can you walk, Kain?” He asked, gently.

Ed stilled and turned his head slowly to regard the alchemist that was apparently a Colonel. There was real concern on his face and he was touching Fuery so carefully as if he could see every injury and was doing his best not to bother a single one of them.

Mustang hadn’t mentioned that Kain had a… _friend_.

But perhaps, Mustang wouldn’t consider it important or even any of his business.

Ed gave him a glance over but couldn’t see anything that set him on edge. Colonel Strange knelt next to Kain, slid an arm around his back and helped him to his feet with a quiet, “Here we go.”

Fuery gritted his teeth, a muffled sound of pain escaping before he was on his feet.

“I’ll take him,” Ed said quickly, stepping forward and taking Fuery from the other man.

“Colonel,” Fuery said before the alchemist could step away. He lifted his chin grimly and met his eyes fiercely, “The General will be fine.”

Ed’s head snapped around, his gaze shifting from Fuery to Strange. The alchemist’s expression flickered and suddenly all his fear and panic were laid bare for Fuery and Ed to see. Armstrong had gone on ahead and was oblivious of the exchange behind his back.

“You don’t know that, Kain,” he said and his voice was tight with emotion.

“He survived Ishval,” Fuery insisted. “He won’t let something stupid like this stop him.”

Colonel Strange dropped his gaze then mustered a weak smile and looked back up at Fuery. “I hope you’re right. I…” His voice caught and he looked down again. “I don’t know if I could…” His voice trailed off.

There was something wrong with Ed’s chest. It felt as if something had curled up and died inside it and exploded simultaneously because there was only one reason that he could be so familiar with Kain and only one reason that Fuery would have gone out of his way to reassure him when he wasn’t even a part of Mustang’s team.

Colonel Strange turned away, his shoulders still slumped. “Get some medical attention Kain. I don’t want Roy’s wrath on my head if he finds out that I kept you from getting your injuries seen to.”

Roy. Only Maes had ever called him Roy. That was an honor withheld even from Riza.

Ed started helping Fuery toward the outside world, making sure that he didn’t put any weight on his bad leg. “Who is he, Fuery?” He asked quietly, and thought; _please, please, tell me I’m wrong. Please say they’re just friends._

Fuery glanced up at him and grinned a little. “That was Colonel Victor Strange.” He chuckled a little and reached up to push his glasses up his nose. “He’s been rather doggedly pursuing the General for the past few months.”

Ed’s heart curled up a little more and whimpered.

“The general’s not interested but the rest of us admire his persistence,” Fuery continued, oblivious to Ed’s silence.

Ed breathed out. Not interested. Mustang’s not interested. The world was all right again.

He smiled at Fuery, relieved that the man hadn’t seemed to notice his distraction and put an arm around his shoulder. “Come on, Fuery,” he said. “Let’s get your shoulder seen to,” and helped him outside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took several more hours before the library was revealed. Armstrong and Ed refused to take a break, working their way down the hall, with Strange working alongside them and if Ed didn’t speak to him, it could easily be interrupted as exhaustion.

Ed shouted when Armstrong unblocked the door and they rushed in. Ed’s eyes darted around the room and settled. Riza, Havoc, and Breda were all there, pinned underneath fallen bookshelves and ceiling tiles.

Mustang was nowhere to be seen.

Armstrong freed the three of them and Riza got to her feet, trying to keep the wince from her face. She looked the most unkempt that Ed had ever seen. Her usual perfect uniform was coated with dust and holding her side with a tight expression.

Havoc let out a hearty groan, “Man, one week out of therapy and something like this happens,” he complained, glaring down his right leg. It was bent at an awkward angle and Ed could tell it was broken.

Breda looked more or less unharmed. He was dirty and dusty and looked like years had been added to his life but he seemed the most untouched of all of them. He instantly got to his feet and went to Havoc, kneeling down and checking his leg.

 “Where’s Mustang!” Ed shouted, looking around desperately as if expecting the man to step out from behind one of the bookshelves, smirk in place.

“He stepped out before the explosion took place, Edward,” Riza said calmly as if being pinned under rubble for the past five hours was nothing out of the ordinary. “Thank you for your assistance, Major,” she said, saluting. “Colonel.”

Strange’s face tightened. “You mean he’s not here?”

Riza shook her head. “I’m afraid not. Can he be moved, Lieutenant Breda?”

“Yeah, so long as he doesn’t put any weight on it,” Breda said, nodding. He put an arm around Havoc’s shoulders and hauled him up, making sure that he kept his right foot off the floor.

Ed stared, his mouth hanging open for a second before he took a deep breath, almost ready to scream at them, to demand why no one was worried about Mustang…

And then Riza very deliberately looked him in the eye and shook her head ever so slightly.

Ed shut his mouth and moved to help Havoc.

“What are you doing here, chief?” Havoc asked through gritted teeth, sweat running down his forehead as he hopped forward, leaning on both of them. “Thought the boss said you were in Creta, researching some new alchemy.”

“I was. There was some business I needed to take care of here,” Ed said, as they walked through the door, hearing Armstrong continue fixing the library.

He held his tongue until they were out in the hall, Hawkeye leading the group, and he and Breda helping Havoc. He waited until they reached an empty hall and stopped, forcing the others to stop with him. “Okay, tell me.”

Hawkeye turned to look at him, her expression impassive. “Tell you what, Edward?”

“Don’t give me that!” Ed hissed. “You’re the Bastard’s team! You’re the people Bradley used against him! You all transferred back to his command after the Promised Day! And none of you are even worried!”

No one spoke. Hawkeye studied him silently and he could feel the tension radiating from Breda and Havoc. Ed felt his stomach drop through his toes. “What?” He turned his head and looked at Havoc who was looking down at his feet and then past him at Breda who was watching Hawkeye. “Guys, what’s going on?”

To his surprise, it was Breda that spoke first. “Kid’s got a right to know.”

“Edward is no longer affiliated with the military,” Hawkeye said calmly.

“Means that he’s not going to go running to anyone in the military,” Havoc said, still studying his shoes.

“We have orders,” Hawkeye said.

“Mustang would have made an exception for the kid,” Breda said. “He knows he’s trustworthy.”

“The boss has proven that he can be discreet when the situation arises,” Havoc added. “I think we should tell him.”

“Me too,” Breda said.

Hawkeye eyed Ed and he felt like a child who wasn’t sure if they were going to be scolded or praised. “Edward, you have to give your word that you will not speak to anyone about what I’m going to tell you outside the three of us and Sergeant Fuery.”

Ed shifted, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten. “Okay, I promise. Fuck, just tell me what’s going on!”

Hawkeye gave him a Look and he quieted. Then, obviously choosing her words carefully, she began, “You are aware that Fuhrer Grumman’s health is not… what we would wish. He has had several heart issues since becoming Fuhrer.”

“No, I didn’t know that!”

“Don’t you ever pick up a newspaper?” Havoc asked and Ed flushed. No, he hadn’t.

“I know that you know General Mustang’s plans to become Fuhrer someday and also that he felt that it was too early after the Promised Day.”

Ed nodded.

Riza went on, “He is however, well known even outside the military and even though we are far away from being a democracy, public opinion is far more important than it used to be under Bradley’s reign. If something were to happen to the Fuhrer, it is most likely that the position would be given to the Brigadier General.”

Ed’s heart fell somehow farther. Mustang was going to achieve his goal but Hawkeye wasn’t making it sound like a good thing.

“There are of course, others that would like the title Fuhrer. Older, more experienced men that have played the game longer and aren’t quite willing to give up the title to someone as young as General Mustang. Men that lack… the same morals.”

“Yellow-bellied snakes,” Breda supplied.

“Two-timing bastards,” Havoc agreed.

“Power hungry fuckers.”

“Narrow-minded idiots.”

“Hypocritical-” Breda began but was cut off by another Look from Hawkeye.

“General Mustang has been very outspoken about the changes he believes are necessary during the past few months and there are some soldiers and civilians that do not agree his views, as well as several men that would like to see him gone simply because it would improve their chances of becoming Fuhrer should something happen to Fuhrer Grumman.”

Ed couldn’t breathe. His chest felt tight and his throat had a boulder in it. “What…” His voice came out low and gravelly and he stopped, cleared it and tried again. “What are you saying, Hawkeye?” Because he was terrified he already knew.

Hawkeye’s lips tightened but she looked him in the eye when she spoke. “Edward, someone is trying to kill General Mustang. Has been for the past four months.”

Mustang. Roy. Someone was trying to kill Roy.

“I’ve wanted to kill him myself some days,” Ed said, his voice too calm.

None of them answered. It seemed too flippant for the words that had proceeded them.

“How many attempts have there been?” Ed’s voice wasn’t working right. It was coming out as a whisper.

Hawkeye grimaced. “We are aware of eight attempts at the moment.”

Blood rushed in Ed’s ears. “Eight?” He croaked.

“Unfortunately none of the assassins have been recovered alive.”

“I’m imagine Mustang made sure of that.”

Riza shook her head. “Whenever they were about to be captured, they committed suicide rather than letting themselves captured alive.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with where Mustang is right now?” Ed demanded.

“Do you know where the explosion was located, Edward?” Riza asked.

Ed thought back to the building when he had first seen the explosion. “Yeah, the west…” His voice trailed off. “Your guys’ office…”

“Is located in the west corner,” Riza finished. “General Mustang took this as another attempt on his life and used alchemy to protect the three of us while he slipped away.”

“Where’d he go?” Ed asked.

“He wants them to believe that they succeeded,” Riza replied calmly. “The four of us will continue our own inquiries into which and how many generals are involved in these attempts while Mustang conducts his own private investigation.”

 “What? No, Hawkeye, you got to tell me how to find him,” Ed said.

Riza shook her head. “General Mustang wishes to work alone, Edward.”

He must have been pretty firm about it if he hadn’t let Hawkeye accompany him. “But he needs someone to watch his back,” Ed protested. “Besides, isn’t he too well known in Central to investigate without everyone knowing him?”

“In Central but not in the south,” Havoc said.

“We believe several of the officers in the South to be involved in the attempts against General Mustang’s life,” Riza said.

“You have to be worried about him,” Ed said. “You can’t have wanted him to go alone.”

He knew he was right. Riza’s face didn’t noticeably change but he saw her shoulders tense and the lines around her mouth deepened.

“Let me go, Hawkeye,” he said. “Let me go watch his back, make sure he stays alive.”

Ed saw Havoc turn his head out of the corner of his eye and look at him. “Since when do you care, boss?”

“Yeah,” Breda added, “what’s in it for you?”

Hawkeye didn’t look particularly surprised and Ed felt his stomach writhe as he met her gaze. There was a knowing look in her eyes that made him avert his gaze.

“I don’t believe that is a good idea, Edward,” Riza said, almost gently.

“Fuck, he’s not safe by himself!” Ed shouted.

Havoc groaned, and suddenly leaned all his weight on Ed’s shoulder almost knocking him over. “Can we talk about this later? Preferably after someone has seen to my leg?”

“Of course,” Riza said calmly and turned back.

The conversation was over for the moment but Ed wasn’t about to let it go. He set his mouth as they started forward again. He was going to go find Mustang and he was going to kill him for not saying anything in his letters.

By the time Ed was done with him, assassins would be lucky to find the body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one's from Roy's point of view!


	3. Roy's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy's not having a good day. Make that a good week. Or a good month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me, it's kind of my head cannon that Roy was in love with Hughes but Hughes was completely straight so it never worked. Still, Roy misses him.

The street was empty except for a few late night stragglers. Roy kept his head down as he moved, watching the shadows weave and dance around him as he made his way closer to his destination.

But while Roy’s body was walking down a street in the sketchier part of town, Roy’s mind was a thousand miles away and deeper than a well. It was full of a lingering red fog that he couldn’t seem to rid himself of no matter how much he tried.

Because before, they’d only been after him. He’d been the only threat; they’d ignored his team. He’d been a fool to think that their lower ranks would somehow protect them from his enemies. But now, they’d struck at his team. His team.

Roy’s teeth clenched and his fingers rubbed painfully against each other even though he wasn’t wearing his gloves. It was an instinctive reaction by now. It was strange that a grown man could feel so possessive over people that were all adults, all perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. But Roy knew the feeling and he knew that it was what was burning away at his self-control.

Even now, his first reaction to the explosion was enough to make him hiss in fury. He’d been surprised at first but then as fierce as a mother bear with her cubs, the thoughts had come fast and strong.

_How dare they. My men. My team. How dare anyone try to take them because they are mine! I have a duty! To them, to Hughes!_

Roy knew, in a distant sort of way, that it wasn’t a healthy reaction. It was one thing to want to protect; it was entirely another to feel the way that he felt. But then, he hadn’t been very healthy since losing Maes.

Maes. Funny wasn’t it that while the man lived he called him by his surname, forcing that boundary on himself while Maes cheerfully called him Roy and smiled and laughed and _breathed_.

If only Maes hadn’t been so completely… straight. He’d spent more nights than he could recall lamenting that one simple fact. Maes liked girls.

Roy liked girls too but gender had never mattered much to him. He was attracted to the person, not the gender and Maes had been the most beautiful person he had ever met. Not because of his looks which were fairly average on a purely objective level.

On a subjective level… Well. Maes had been beyond brilliant, competitive to a fault, fearlessly loyal, unspeakably kind, and… he had the eyes of a killer just like Roy. He’d been there.

He understood.

Roy still remembered week he’d spent with Maes and Gracia before their wedding, helping Maes finish fixing up the house he’d bought while Gracia organized the wedding. They’d camped out in sleeping bags in the empty living room and woken with nightmares every single night.

And they’d always gone to the kitchen and Maes would make tea and Roy would sit at the tiny coffee table that passed for a table and stare at nothing. Maes would hand him a cup and sit down opposite him and they would sit silently and drink tea until their cups were empty and then go back to their sleeping bags.

And Roy had thought; _this part of you will always be mine. Because we’re broken, Maes, you and I. But maybe Gracia can put you back together._

They’d gotten married and the wedding had been perfect and Roy had stood at Maes’ side, beaming and happy because his friend was happy and hadn’t let himself consider how miserable he was.

But Maes had called him while he was on his honeymoon in the middle of the night. Roy had been awake and aimlessly wandering his apartment and he had known immediately who it would be.

He’d answered and felt his heart ache at the pain and weariness in his best friend’s voice. “Roy?” Maes had asked, his voice cracked and trembling.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Roy had said. “Is everything alright?”

Maes had been silent for a while and then he’d whispered, “I thought they’d stop when I had someone beside me, Roy. I thought they’d stop.”

“But they haven’t?” Roy had asked instead of saying, ‘I was always beside you, Maes.’ He hadn’t needed to ask what he was talking about. The same things haunted him every night as well. Worse things than Maes could have ever done.

“No,” Maes whispered and the sound seemed to get lost in the dark.

“Tell me about Gracia,” Roy had said because he thought he knew what Maes needed.

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Roy. She’s the soul of purity and kindness. I won’t deserve her as long as I live. She…” There was a pause and then a soft sigh, “Roy, I can’t do this right now.”

He didn’t want Gracia associated with those memories. Okay. “What do you want to talk about, Maes?” He asked softly, twisting the phone cord between his fingers.

Maes’ answer was immediate, “Tell me how you’re going to fix this country, Roy. Tell me what it could be like.”

Roy heard the unspoken plea; tell me about a world without war even if even you can’t make it come true.

So he talked. He told Maes what he dreamed about, what he hoped for, what he would build on his own sweat and blood and tears. He talked about ideals and how they could change the world.

Maes had listened and thanked him and then they’d said goodbye.

It hadn’t happened every night after that but there were several nights a week that Maes would call and they would talk or sometimes just listen to each other breathing.

But slowly, inevitably, Gracia became his anchor, his sanity in the middle of the night, his angel who offered a second chance and Roy went back to being nothing more than his best friend, his brother in all but blood.

Roy was jerked out of his thoughts when he felt a hand rest against his arm, squeezing his bicep through the sleeve of his jacket. He looked up and was surprised to see that he was already in front of a newly opened bar with a sign on the door; The Golden Pony.

Madame’s style of humor really was appalling.

“It’s awful late, big fella,” one of the girls said, sashaying her hips as she moved closer to him.

Roy laughed softly and raised a hand to tilt his hood back, allowing Emily to get a good look at his face. Her eyes widened and then her face suffused with delight as she opened her mouth but Roy shook his head sharply and held a finger to his lip. She understood and quieted.

“Is Madame in?” Roy asked.

She smiled and nodded, and not letting go of his arm, tugged him inside to the bar.

Madame was there, although the rest of the bar was empty except for a few of the girls. Roy pushed back his hood and was greeted by the familiar shrieks and cries of delight, smiling at their happiness and allowing himself to share in it for a too-fleeting moment.

But then he turned to Madame and it was all business as he took a seat.

“Heard about the explosion,” she said without preamble. “That’s what? The tenth attempt?”

“Eighth. Elizabeth is reaching the end of her rope.”

“Good thing you’re not dead,” Madame said, taking a puff from her cigarette. “I’d have killed you if you were.”

“I cannot remain in Central any longer,” Roy said, leaning forward and lowering his voice so that it carried no farther than the two of them.

Madame considered his words and nodded. “I can see why. They’re not just targeting you anymore.”

Roy nodded, relieved that she understood. “I need all the information you’ve been able to gather, Madame,” he said, drawing patterns in the condensation on the glass that had appeared in front of him as if by magic.

She nodded and disappeared into the back room.

Roy leaned back, allowing himself to relax for a few moments before he had to return to the real world. Madame’s bars were always safe no matter where they were.

The door suddenly opened behind him, letting in a gust of air before it slammed shut.

Ah, so apparently it wasn’t so late that a few men weren’t still out.

Roy didn’t turn as the footsteps approached the bar, but he felt his shoulders tense and his fingers went casually to his pocket for his lighter. He still had the transmutation carved on the back of his hand if he needed to complete a quick transmutation.

He was startled when two hands grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around on his barstool. He looked up in completely bafflement into a pair of blazing gold eyes and felt the familiar rush of regret, pride and shame that Edward always conjured up in him. Regret for offering him a chance to join the military. Pride for everything the boy had accomplished and shame for the way the young man had often invaded his dreams since he had met him.

But Edward was in Creta not here.

Edward drew his fist back and Roy didn’t protest, just stared at him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter's back from Ed's perspective. Comments and critiques welcome!


	4. What Are We Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let him go, Roy."

Ed was not in the mood.

It had taken him a lousy few hours to convince Riza that he could and should be the one to go with Mustang and when she had finally told him where he could find Roy, he’d been disgusted.

A bar? Really, Mustang? You almost got yourself and your damn team blown up this morning and now you’re headed out to drink and chat up some women?!

Riza had just smiled when he’d started ranting and Havoc and Breda had been openly amused but none of them would tell him what the joke was.

Ed flung the door open and heard it hit the opposite wall with a satisfying crash. His eyes took in the red and brown interior, the few women scattered around and then the figure seated at the bar with a girl hovering not far away.

Ed’s fists clenched and he stalked across the room, grabbed Mustang by the shoulders and spun him around.

The look on Mustang’s face was priceless. He looked stunned to see Ed, his mouth slightly open as if to ask a question while he stared.

_Maybe this’ll make it real for him,_ Ed thought, and let go of his shoulders, drawing back his right arm and wishing he still had the automail so he could deliver a really satisfying punch.

It was a blow he would remember for a long time. It was textbook, his knuckles colliding with Mustang’s cheekbone, and snapped his head back. The sound was startlingly loud in the sudden silence of nearly uninhabited bar.

Ed stood there, panting and glaring, daring someone to call him out.

After a moment, Mustang raised his head and looked back at him. Ed had seen this look before. It was Mustang’s I-am-severaly-ticked-off-and-you’d-better-have-a-good-explanation-for-this-or-I’ll-barbcue-your-sorry-ass look. It was honestly, more than a little intimidating but Ed refused to back down.

“What the hell was that for, Edward?” Mustang snapped, his eyes narrowed.

Ed could feel his lip curling. “I think you fucking know already, Mustang.”

“From where I’m sitting, it was entirely uncalled for,” Mustang snarled back.

“Yeah? Central Command sound familiar? Eight attempts on your fucking life by fucking _assassins_ sound familiar?”

“I can assure you that I am not fucking any assassins,” Mustang said.

Ed decided to ignore this. “I had to practically twist Hawkeye’s arm to get her to tell me what was going on! Because not only could you not be bothered to tell me that your life was in danger, apparently you ordered them not to tell me!”

“I didn’t order them not to tell you; I ordered them not to tell anyone.”

“Fuck, Mustang!” Ed didn’t care that he was shouting and that they could probably hear him out on the street. “You think this is funny? You think you’re invincible or some shit? Those assassins have to get lucky once! Just once and then it’s over! No more promotions, no more making this nation a better place!”

Anger flashed in Mustang’s impossibly black eyes and his jaw clenched. When he leaned forward, his voice was much lower, but somehow more dangerous. “And did you consider that this is exactly the reason why I didn’t tell you, Edward? That I knew you would act like the kid you are and lose control, making yourself an unresistable target and letting the cat out of bag at the same time?”

“I was in Creta! Who would I have told?”

“You don’t expect me to believe that you were living alone in Creta. You have always drawn people to yourself like moths to flame.”

Ed opened his mouth to yell and caught himself before the words left his mouth. He shifted from one foot to the other and glared at Mustang. “Don’t try to change the subject. You didn’t tell me.”

“Contrary to your opinion, Edward, I am not _required_ to tell you anything,” Mustang said coldly.

“Friends tell each other stuff! Especially important stuff!”

“I fail to see how that applies to us.”

Ed’s mouth fell open and finally he stepped back, away from Mustang. “What?” He croaked. Had he just said…

“We’re not friends, Edward. I don’t know how you got it in your head that we ever were.”

There was a moment of silence that was broken by the sound of something falling onto the counter behind Roy. “You two are better than theatre,” said an old woman wearing a low-cut evening dress with a beauty mark under one eye and a thick rope of pearls around her neck.

Ed glared at her as Roy turned in his seat to pick up the file she’d dropped. A part of him was filing the words away for later. For when he could take time to examine them and see if there was any truth in them. “Who the hell are you?”

She arched an eyebrow then glanced sideways at Roy who had opened the file and was going through it. “He dangerous?”

“Sometimes,” Roy said with an indifferent shrug. “Madame, this is Edward Elric. He’s the former Fullmetal Alchemist. He studies different types of alchemy. Edward, this is my aunt, Madame Christmas. She runs an escort business and this bar.”

Ed blinked. “Your aunt?” Then he blinked again. “Escort business?” He demanded, his eyes widening.

Madame Christmas, Roy’s aunt, winked at him and grinned. “You looking for work?”

Ed almost fell over from the shock.

She laughed, a low, smoky sound that reminded him of Mustang’s and yet not. “Oh, this one’s cute, Roy. Why’d you never bring him around before?”

“Why would I have?” Roy asked absently, apparently deeply engrossed by the papers he was pouring over.

“Because he’s gorgeous,” she said as if it should have been obvious.

Ed flushed and opened his mouth to speak but Roy beat him to it. He looked up with a frown. “Edward’s not gay, Madame and he was my subordinate. He’s also only eighteen.”

“You sure he’s not gay?” Madame asked, giving Ed a knowing look.

“He’s engaged to a girl,” Roy said in a bored tone.

“We-we were talking about the fact that you didn’t tell me about the eight fucking attempts on your life,” Ed sputtered. Were they really standing there, discussing his sexuality? For that matter, why wasn’t he correcting Roy? He was gay, he’d had a boyfriend and he’d had sex with him. He wasn’t shy about it, there was nothing to be shy about, right?

Roy snapped the file shut and stood up. “Many thanks Madame. This will come in useful.” He turned and nodded at Edward. “Good night, Edward,” and started for the door.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Ed demanded, stepping in front of him.

“I’ve got a train to catch,” Roy said, frowning down at him from his freakishly tall form.

“Hey, did you ever stop to think that there was a reason Hawkeye told me who to find you? She made me promise to look out for your sorry ass in Aergo. I’m coming with you, Mustang.”

There was a moment of silence. Mustang stared at him then raised his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with an exhausted sigh. “I see. I hope you have your things then.”

Ed blinked. “What, you’re not going to argue?”

“You want to come to Aergo? Fine. Come. Or don’t. It doesn’t matter at this point.”

“Doesn’t matter? It doesn’t matter if you have me with you or not?” Ed hissed. “How were you so decent in your letters and such an ass in person?”

“I’d be lying if I said that I want you to come, Edward, but knowing you and knowing Hawkeye, I’m sure that she did indeed demand that you accompany me. I’m sure she wouldn’t stop at killing you if you didn’t keep your word.”

Ed glared at Mustang. _How did I ever think that I liked this jerk_? He wondered.

“Fine, let’s go,” he snapped.

~~~

The trip to Aergo started well enough. Ed hadn’t forgotten how uncomfortable couch seats were but he’d dealt with worse. He expected Mustang to complain but the bastard didn’t so much as open his mouth during the first hour. Ed for one wasn’t saying much because he hadn’t been prepared for the changes that the bastard had acquired when they met at the train station.

Ed had gawked for a full five seconds before busting out laughing. “You look like a nutty professor,” he’d wheezed out eventually.

Roy had been wearing a pair of brown trousers, a pale green shirt and glasses. Glasses. He gave him a down the nose look, “I actually look very distinguished, Edward, thank you for noticing.”

“Whatever. What happened to your hair?”

“It’s called dye. I’m sure you’ve heard of it?” The subtle mocking tone had been replaced with an unsubtle one.

“You look fuck awful as a red head.”

“It’s not red, it’s auburn,” Roy said.

“I’m not sure if it’s scarier that you _think_ there’s a difference or that you actually know the difference.”

But now the silence grated on Ed. This was the man that he’d been pouring his heart and life out to through his letters and Mustang had been more than decent, he’d been nice about it. But now he was acting like the only thing he wanted was to get as far away from Ed as possible. Talk about conflicting signals.

Ed sighed and conceded defeat. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why’re you angry at me?”

Mustang’s eyes flicked to him then back to the window. “Do you remember when you came to me that night in the hospital after the Promised Day? When you found out that Marcoh had cured my blindness?”

“Yeah, I remember. I was an idiot and a shit and Al talked me through it and I’m cool with it now.”

Mustang stared down at his hands, clenched and unclenched them. “Before you came in… I was thinking about Hughes.”

They’d completely gotten off topic and Ed had no idea how this linked to why Mustang was mad at him now but this was too much for him to walk away from now. “And?”

“When… when the Homunculi forced me through the Gate, I saw him.”

Ed’s throat went dry. _Just like I saw Mom_ , he thought. _Just for a second_. “What-what happened?”

Roy stared out the window. “Nothing. I just saw him for a second and then he was gone.”

Ed leaned forward and bumped Roy’s shoulder with his. “Look, Hughes was great and all but it’s been more than two years.” He regretted the words the second they were out of his mouth even before Roy was turning to stare at him with eyes that flashed with hurt before going blank. “Fuck, I didn’t mean- “

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t. Everyone agrees with you.” Roy’s voice was emptier than he’d ever heard it and it sliced his heart like shards of broken glass.

“Look, Roy, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it like that; I know he was your best friend and that you’d known each other for years and that you’d do anything to have him back-” Ed realized he was babbling and cut himself off, wincing. “Fuck, I’m messing this up. I just meant that you have other people that care about you too. Like that Colonel Strange guy.”

Roy– _snarled_. “Why would I care about that moron?”

Ed scrabbled back a little on his seat because there was emotion in Roy’s eyes now, hot and burning like an inferno, so furious that he felt small in comparison. A thought that sent him bristling and he snapped back, “Oh, I don’t know; cause he’s hot and clearly into you. I wouldn’t have thought you’d need another reason.”

“You-” Roy suddenly stood up and walked away, down the small aisle and out the back door without a glance around at the other passengers.

Ed sat still for a moment, surprised. He couldn’t ever remember the bastard running away from a fight. Usually he handled them as casually as he breathed, with little heat and total control. Why did the mere mention of Strange push his buttons?

Could it be that he really did like Strange?

Ed pondered that for a minute then tossed the idea away. No, Roy had been angry at the mention of his name, not embarrassed or dreamy or whatever people got like when they heard the object of their interest mentioned.

After ten minutes had passed and Roy still hadn’t returned, Ed sighed and got up. He found Roy leaning against the outside railing in silence his head tilted down as if to hide his face from the world.

Ed couldn’t help stopping to admire the view for a moment. The wind whipped Mustang’s reddish-brown strands around his head and it made his shirt billow. Fuck, he looked good in casual clothes. Why did he wear that ugly uniform? Why did he even own it?

“You could have just said you don’t like Strange and I’d have dropped it,” Ed said.

“I don’t like Strange.” Roy said, not turning.

Ed leaned against the railing next to him and titled his head back to gaze up at the sky. “Why not?”

“You said you’d drop it.”

“I lied. I want to know.”

“Too bad.”

Ed frowned and folded his arms, tapping his fingers against his biceps. “It can’t have been anything too terrible or Hawkeye wouldn’t let him near you.”

“Edward-”

“He’s handsome, he’s intelligent, and he’s offering. Who wouldn’t take advantage of that?”

“You would, I suppose.”

“I mean I did-” The words were out before Ed could catch them and a second later, he clapped his hand over his mouth in horror.

Roy turned his head and stared at him and Ed suddenly couldn’t meet his gaze and looked back up at the sky, feeling his face go red.

The silence stretched between them, uncomfortable and at least it felt like at the moment, unbreakable.

Ed forced himself to pick out cloud shapes and then silently reciting their chemical make-up while he tried to work up the nerve to meet Roy’s eyes.

He was finally aware of movement but Roy only turned back to the scenery with a quiet, “I see.”

And suddenly Ed was mad again. “You’re the bastard playboy of Central! You’re the one good for nothing but one-night stands! Don’t you dare act like you’ve got moral high ground on this!”

Roy held up a hand. “When you’ve calmed down, we can talk about this.”

“No, fucking say what you’re going to say!”

Roy sighed, straightened and turned, looking Ed straight in the eye. “Fine. First of all, I always made sure my prospective partners knew what being with be entailed on the first date. Always. No exceptions, that’s the rule. Everyone that was with me knew what that meant. Second, I haven’t actually slept with anyone in years so don’t leap to assumptions. Third, since when do you even like guys?”

Ed turned even redder if that was possible. “It just happened, all right? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You didn’t correct me when I told Madame that you weren’t gay.”

“She caught me off guard! What was I supposed to say?”

“Hook me up with a hot guy that can show me the ropes?” Roy suggested dryly.

“I already know the ropes, jerk,” Ed growled.

“Does Al know?”

Ed shuffled and stared up at the sky again. “Probably.”

“You haven’t talked to him about it?” Roy sounded surprised.

“No, it was stupid, I just wanted some company and he was there and interested and he knew what he was doing and I–just wanted something for myself-”

“Edward, we don’t have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable,” Roy interrupted and Ed was so surprised that he stopped talking and stared at him.

_Oh, they didn’t?_ “Um, thanks?” He ventured. “I guess you didn’t really ask.”

“No, I didn’t and I really don’t want details of your romantic excursions,” Roy said dryly.

Ed decided that was a bit of a relief, he certainly didn’t want details of Roy’s after all. “Can’t we just…” he waved a hand helplessly to indicate both himself and Roy, “be like this? I mean, we’re not superior and subordinate anymore and I’ll admit that I don’t really know what we are anymore but we’re going to Aergo together and I’d really like to not have to worry about telling Hawkeye that putting up with you became too much and I ended up killing you.”

Roy was silent for a moment then he took a deep breath and exhaled. “Edward, I trust you. I want you to understand that that is the only reason that I’m about to tell you what I am.” Ed watched his face as Roy took another deep breath. “Edward… I’m tired.”

Ed blinked. Then blinked again. “Okay,” he began uncertainly. “So you want to get some sleep or-”

Roy shook his head and huffed out a little laugh. “That didn’t come out correctly. What I meant, Edward, is that I am weary. Weary of playing the game. Weary of Central. Weary of fighting to make a better world when no one seems to appreciate it.”

Ed stared at him. He could only see the side of Roy’s face and his hair was hiding his eye but he could hear only complete honesty in Roy’s voice. He sounded exhausted.

“Okay, I get it. I spent the past two years with Al in Resembool but you stayed at Central and worked your tail off. Of course you’d be tired.”

“No, you don’t understand. Edward, I cannot-I _cannot_ be General Mustang right now. I cannot. I just need… I need time to be Roy. _Just_ Roy. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s the real reason that I’m headed south. I talked to Hawkeye and she agreed that it was time for me to get away. She probably is hoping that she’ll catch my would-be murderers in the meantime while I’m gone but I was so ready to go that I didn’t stay to protest.”

Wait, the bastard wanted to stop being Brigadier General for now? He wanted to abandon his rank for a break? Was this really the bastard Colonel that he knew? “…All right. We’ll find some place outside the city and we can spend some time just relaxing. I’m fine with that, Musta- Roy. We don’t have to investigate until you’re ready.” That was a lie, of course. Roy might need some time, but Ed wasn’t going to lie around waiting for the assassins to find out that Roy wasn’t as dead as they hoped. Roy could rest and Ed would investigate. Simple.

Roy smiled faintly as if reading his mind. “You can’t sit still, Edward. You don’t know the meaning of the words, ‘slow down’ and I’m not going to pretend that you do. I’m sure you’d be happier if you stayed in the city.”

Ed suddenly understood. Roy was casually manipulating him to the point that he would leave Roy alone the moment they arrived in Aergo and think it was all his own idea. Fuck, he didn’t have the slightest idea where to start looking for the people trying to kill Roy and he wasn’t going to find them just by running around and blowing stuff up.

Ed’s eyebrows drew down and he leaned toward Roy, his voice sharp and angry. “I’m not falling for that, bastard! I’m coming with you, wherever you decide to go and you’re not talking me out of it!”

Roy sighed and bowed his head. “Very well, Edward,” he murmured.

It would occur to Ed later that he really should have been suspicious of Roy’s easy surrender.

~~~

The rest of the trip passed relatively calmly. Ed and Roy ate together in the dining car but otherwise, spent most of their time apart. Ed found another alchemist to argue theory with but Roy purposely cloistered himself, remaining outside the car most of the time or on top of the roof if the fancy struck him.

That was where Ed found him after the conductor announced that they would be arriving in Aergo in twenty minutes.

He climbed up the side railings and saw Mustang lying on his back, eyes closed and completely still.

Ed frowned and crawled carefully to his side and shook his shoulder. Roy opened an eye and looked up at him. “We’re going to be arriving soon,” Ed said, suddenly aware that he was leaning over Roy and gazing down at him while Roy stared up at him. Something warned him to pull back but Ed found that he didn’t want to listen and remained where he was, gazing down at Roy.

Roy who looked very different and somehow much more approachable with his dyed hair and black rimmed glasses.

“Fine,” Roy said, closing his eye.

They remained like that for a few minutes, Ed as still as Roy.

Roy opened his eyes again and scowled up at him. “You’re blocking the sun, Edward.”

“Wouldn’t want your fish-belly skin to burn, would we,” Ed drawled.

“I’ll have you know that my skin is a perfectly normal shade,” Roy huffed and that sounded more like him. He closed his eyes again and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Ed wondered what it would be like to lean forward and claim that mouth. If he was brave enough, if he had enough guts to just move and finally make his intentions obvious so that someone besides Riza could tell…

Roy opened his eyes again and he was scowling again. “Seriously, move.”

Ed hesitated, warred with himself then drew back, mentally cursing himself for a coward. He sat back and looked up at the sky. “What did you think?” He asked abruptly. “When you first showed up in Resembool and found me? Did you consider turning me over to the military because I’d committed a taboo?”

There was a moment of silence. Ed knew that time, that day, those few short minutes had defined so much of them. It hadn’t changed anything but themselves really. And in that, it had changed everything.

Granny and Winry had spent weeks trying to stir him up, to push him into action but they didn’t have the right words and he had only retreated further into himself.

_What gave you the right_? Edward suddenly wanted to ask and bit his tongue before he did. _What gave you the right to pull me out of my pain and misery and force me to walk again? I didn’t even know you and you didn’t know me! I was just an alchemist you were trying to recruit._

“I thought… how could you do this? Why did you do this?” Roy shrugged and it looked strange since he still hadn’t moved from his sprawl. “I didn’t really understand until Maes died.” His voice caught a little but he went on like it hadn’t and Ed didn’t mention it.

Ed took a deep breath. He didn’t want to say this but he thought that maybe Roy needed it. “Tell me about him.”

“What would I say? You knew him.”

“Not like you did. You were in the army together. Did you meet him in the academy?”

Roy turned his face away. “It was a long time ago, Edward.” The train began slowing and he sat up. “I think we should be going,” he said.

Ed gritted his teeth before he took a deep breath. This wasn’t the time. Later when they were alone and Roy couldn’t get away, then he would push. He would ask and when that failed he would demand. They were going to talk about this and they were going to talk about Hughes because they needed to.

Aergo was…

Hot. Dry. Boring.

The hotel barely more than a glorified shack but it was two story and their room looked out on the street below. After hauling their luggage up the stairs and dropping it on the bed, Ed wandered over to look out of it. “How did Fuery survive months here?” He wondered aloud.

There was a dry laugh from Mustang and when Ed whirled around he saw the man opening his suitcase with a bitter smile on his lips. “I hardly think that he was staying in town and relaxing, Edward.”

No. He wouldn’t have been.

“I feel like I’ve got sand everywhere,” Ed complained as he kicked off his boots. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Mustang nodded. “Fine.”

Ed paused, wondering if now was the time to talk to him then decided to wait. There would be time later. He picked out a pair of fresh clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, making sure the water was cold on the burning steel of his leg.

It wasn’t until after he’d emerged from the bathroom, squeezing the water out of his hair that he realized that Mustang had ditched him. Ed stood frozen in the middle of the room, for a moment, looking around for any sign of the man but there was none. He wasn’t there.

For a moment, Ed was stunned. And then he was furious.

So the bastard thought that he could ditch him at the first opportunity, did he? He thought that Ed was just around to carry luggage and pay for lunch, did he?

Ed darted downstairs to the front desk and asked if they’d seen Mustang. Actually he asked if they’d seen Raymond Caprice since that was the name they’d agreed on for Mustang and the woman behind the desk said that he’d left a few minutes ago but no, she didn’t know which way he’d gone.

Ed thought about scouring the city but decided against it. It was midday and blazing hot and there was a fan in their room even if it was a small one and made the most obnoxious clanking sounds. Mustang would eventually come back and he would be in for it when he did.

Ed went back to their room and sat in front of the fan and waited.

And waited.

He stood up and paced. He peered out the window. He moved the suitcases to the floor. He moved them against the wall. He sat on the bed. He decided it was too hard and sat on the other bed. He took off his shirt and laid it over one of the dressers. He put it back on and went and got something to eat. He came back and flopped back down in front of the fan.

And he fumed.

Mustang didn’t really stand a chance. He appeared shortly after nine that night. Ed heard his footsteps in the hall and sat up on the bed, glad that the lamp cast such a dim glow and only succeeded in throwing his face in shadow instead of revealing it.

Roy walked in, and he looked exhausted and grim and hungry and probably thirsty too. In short, he looked horrible. A kinder man would have been moved to sympathy.

Ed was not.

“So you’re not dead,” he said and Roy looked up, glanced in the direction of his voice and frowned.

“Of course not. I told you I had to meet with informants,” Roy said, and pulled his sweat-stained shirt off and threw it in one corner. “Is there any food?”

Ed had by now, passed through the torrid waters of fury and was floating on the placid tides of rage. The sight of Roy shirtless and the huge burn scar on one side did nothing to placate him. “You said there wasn’t any rush. Why did you have to go the second my back was turned?”

“I didn’t think it would be a good idea for them to know you were with me and I didn’t think it would be a good idea for you to be able to identify them,” Roy said, walking toward the bathroom.

Ed moved. It wasn’t that far from the bed to the bathroom and he stood in the doorway, blocking Roy and refusing him entrance.

Roy stopped and looked down at him, frowning.

“You know, if you’re really that desperate to die, I could do it for you,” Ed said calmly. “It wouldn’t be that hard to snap your neck, even without an automail arm.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed. “Stop making this about me, Edward. I went alone for your protection and theirs.”

“No, you went alone because you thought maybe one of them would be a traitor and would put you out of your misery.”

Roy’s mouth fell open. “What?” He sputtered. “Where did you even get that idea?!”

Ed stepped forward until he was inches away from Roy. “Tell me about Hughes.”

Roy’s eyes hardened and his shoulders stiffened. Ed could see the mask sliding it place and hated it. “Why are you bringing this up again? There’s nothing to tell.”

“I think there is. I think there’s a reason that it was Hughes death that pushed you over the edge. I think there’s a reason that it was his name you were sobbing after the Promised Day.”

Roy stared at him. “You heard that?” He managed, looking almost ill.

Ed leaned closer and Roy stepped back. Interesting, the bastard was actually retreating. Giving ground. “I think there’s a reason you’re so opposed to Strange. You said you haven’t slept with anyone in years. Why is that? You could have any woman in Central you wanted and probably more than half its men. So why isn’t the infamous General Mustang getting any?”

Roy stood still for a moment then he said very coldly, “That, Edward, is none of your business.”

“You know, Gracia told me once that you cried at their wedding. She said that you were giving your best man speech and you actually teared up once. She thought it was the sweetest thing and always held it over Maes’ head that he could make Roy Mustang cry.”

“Stop.”

“And you know, I thought about it. Afterwards. I thought about it after I heard you in the hospital and I thought, does a friend, even a good friend go after a murderer like you did? Does he risk his soul to take vengeance for a friend?”

“Whereas you risked your brother’s life because of your own misplaced hubris.”

Ed ignored his comment and just watched his face. “Did you ever tell Hughes that you loved him?”

There was silence. Ed couldn’t tell if it was because neither of them were breathing or if it was because they were breathing so shallowly that it didn’t even stir the air.

Roy’s face was so impassive, so expressionless and Ed was tempted to shake him, to try and provoke some response but he remembered the last time he’d done that and held his place.

Roy finally spoke, his words low and colder than ice. “I do not have to listen to this,” and turned toward the door.

“I suppose you were always too much of a coward to tell him. After all, if you can’t even say that you loved him to me, how would you ever be able to say it to his face?”

Roy went rigid and in that second, Ed placed himself between Roy and the door. “You’re not going to walk away from this, Mustang,” Ed said. “Not this time.”

“Why do you care?” Roy snarled at him, and it _was_ a snarl, a hint of emotion escaping from behind the mask. “My life is none of your business!”

“I care, Roy, because we’re friends, despite you denying it. You’re tearing yourself apart for someone that’s gone. It’s as if Hawkeye and Havoc and Falman and the rest of us don’t even matter.” Ed raised both hands and swept them toward Mustang. “You said that you’re weary. That you’re tired of playing the game. That you need time to just be Roy. The Flame Alchemist I knew two years ago would never have said that. The Flame Alchemist I knew lived and breathed the game.” He paused for a moment. “The Flame Alchemist I knew was fighting for more than himself. He was fighting for a nation.”

Roy didn’t respond and Ed stepped closer again and tilted his face up toward Roy’s. “Or maybe he was just fighting for one person. A person he knew he could never, ever have.”

Roy went for him then and if Ed hadn’t been expecting it he would never have gotten out of the way in time. He ducked under Roy’s punch and started to turn-

The world spun and suddenly Roy had him up against the wall, one arm across his chest, bracketing his shoulders and holding his arms still and one pressed to his throat. Ed choked and arched his back, trying to get some air.

“It. Is. None. Of. Your. Fucking. Business.” Roy growled.

“Tell me,” Ed managed to gasp out, meeting his eyes as best he could when his were watering. “Tell me you didn’t love him.”

Roy pushed his arm harder against Ed’s neck, anger bright and hard in his eyes. Ed tried to kick him but his limbs felt leaden and heavy and there was no strength behind it.

Ed gasped, trying for another breath but it was hard, and there were black spots in his vision. “R-oy,” Ed choked, “I ca-n’t brea-the.”

Roy didn’t let up and Ed felt a spark of panic. “Roy,” he wheezed and weakly pushed against his arm.

It was like watching a light come on. Roy suddenly blinked, as if he only just realized what he was doing and then he was horrified and he stepped back, leaving Ed to slide down the wall to sit on the floor, gasping for air and massage his throat.

It was terrible, the sound of Ed’s rasping, painful breaths in the dark, quiet room.

Ed didn’t look up until he heard the brush of clothing against itself and glanced up. Roy was sitting down opposite him, several feet between them, not looking at him. He had his knees drawn up to his chest and he was staring at them. When he spoke, his voice was emotionless, flat, hollow. “We were rivals first, friends second. Never more than that. The first time I ever had a real conversation with Hughes, he talked about the woman he wanted to marry one day. He saved my life, I don’t know if you knew that.”

He stopped speaking and stared into the distance for a moment before he went on in the same empty tone. “We had made a friend at the academy. His name was Heathcliff Orb. He was an Ishvallan. I didn’t know what happened to him after training but we met again in Ishval. He shot to kill me and Maes shot him. His bullet hit my pocket watch but Maes’ bullet went through his head.”

Ed hadn’t stopped rubbing his throat but he was listening, holding his breath just in case Mustang stopped.

“Afterward, he was talking about Gracia, trying to talk me out of my despair. I asked him if he would be able to hold the woman he loved with his bloodstained hands. He grabbed me by my jacket, shouted and eventually drew back.

“He said there wasn’t time for that and I asked him to give me a minute. He did. Just sixty seconds. But because of what he’d said, I realized that I loved him and that he loved Gracia.” Roy drew a shaky breath. “There, I said it. I loved him. Happy now?”

Ed wasn’t but he didn’t answer.

“I thought about telling him. During the war, after the war, before he got married, after he got married, before they had Elysia, after they had her. I never did. It wouldn’t have changed things and if it had, it wouldn’t have been for the better. He had Gracia and Elysia and he would never have returned my feelings. Hughes was very straight. Not that he despised homosexuals; he just didn’t see the point.”

Roy finally looked up and met his gaze and Ed was stunned at the brokenness he saw in the General’s eyes. “There. Now you know. Satisfied?” He started to stand up and Ed lurched forward and grabbed him by his shirt. He pressed his face into the side of Roy’s neck and shook his head.

“No,” he murmured and felt Roy still. “Let him go, Roy.” He pulled back far enough that he could look up into Roy’s face and whispered, “Let him go,” as he placed his hand on Roy’s chest, over his heart. “And let me in. Please, Roy.”

Roy’s eyes widened and Ed leaned forward and kissed him. Gently.

For a second, it was wonderful. For a second it was like kissing the sun and standing on air.

Then Roy was pulling back, hands on his shoulders and pushing him away, jerking back. “What-the- _hell_ Edward!” He stood up and stepped away, putting several feet of space between them.

Ed swallowed and reached up a hand, touching his lips and for a moment, imaging the phantom tingle of Roy’s against his. He finally forced himself to look up at the man he loved. “That wasn’t really the reaction I was hoping for,” he admitted.

Roy was breathing hard and staring at him in disbelief. “What were you even thinking? He’s there, I’ll kiss him?”

“No!” Ed shouted, getting to his feet. “I just–” he forced himself to stop and breathe for a minute. If he plowed into it like normal he would fuck everything up, he knew it.

“Look, I know this may seem sudden, but it’s not. Since I knew I was gay, I’ve thought about you differently. I’ve remembered stupid stuff; the way you stand like you’ve got the world in the palm of your hand, the way you protect your men like they’re the only thing that matters, your fucking beautiful flame alchemy…”

Ed took a deep breath and titled his head back to look at the ceiling. “Roy, you were _there_. For all of it. From start to finish. I don’t have to tell you my demons because you already know them. I don’t have to tell you that I tried to bring my mother back to life and that it cost me an arm and a leg and Al his whole body, I don’t have to tell you why I joined the military, I don’t have to tell you why Al was a suit of amour for years and why he isn’t anymore. Because you already know. You know me, Roy. And you still care about me.

“I’ve never had that. Aside from Mom and Al and Teacher and Sig, I’ve never had people care about me before. I’ve never had anyone that wanted to protect me, not because of my automail but because I was young and I didn’t know what the world could be like.” He looked searchingly into Roy’s eyes. “Do you honestly not feel anything for me? After everything that’s happened?”

The silence that followed more than gave Ed his answer. Roy did have feelings. He just didn’t want to admit it.

 Roy looked away as if uncomfortable meeting his eyes any longer and Ed’s heart started beating again. He stepped closer and reached up, to place a hand on either side of Roy’s face and lift his head, went to lean forward –

Roy drew back, shaking his head. “Edward, no. We can’t.”

“Why not?” Ed resisted his impulse to lash out because he had the very strong feeling that if he acted immature in the slightest way that Roy would say he wasn’t old enough. He had a feeling that the bastard was going to make something of the age difference.

He wasn’t wrong. “You’re – you’re only eighteen,” Roy said.

Ed gritted his teeth. “I’ve been legal since I was sixteen, bastard.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Roy ran a hand through his hair and Ed watched the strands run under his fingers so unlike their normal color. “Edward, I am fourteen years older than you. I’m thirty-two. It may seem like a good idea right now but will it in a few years? Assuming we stay together and if we don’t do you really want to give up the friendship we have for a fling?”

Ed growled and crossed his arms. “I don’t do casual,” he said and then thought of Rowan and felt horrible because clearly he _did_.

Roy smiled sadly. “Edward, I don’t do anything _but_ casual.”

“You’ve loved Hughes for years,” he argued. “You don’t even sleep with people because of it.”

Roy closed his eyes for a moment then shook his head. “I can’t deal with this right now,” he said wearily, slumping against the one bed and sitting on the edge of it. “Edward, we will talk about this but it’s been a very long day and I think that right now, the best thing for both of us would be to get some sleep.”

Ed nodded and turned toward the other bed then stopped. “You’re not my first, you know,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you’re worried about. You’re not my first.”

There was a moment of silence then Roy said, “Thank you for telling me.”

And Ed couldn’t tell if he was relieved or angry.

They prepared for bed and climbed into separate beds without saying goodnight to each other.

Ed laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling through the darkness that wasn’t complete because of the light spilling in from the street lamps. He could hear Roy’s even, slow breathing and wondered whether he was asleep or just pretending to be.

Well that had gone… badly. Not as bad as it could have been admittedly but Roy had said he wanted time to think about it. Ed had offered and he’d pulled back. Those weren’t the actions of someone that really wanted something, were they? If Roy was really serious, then wouldn’t he have acted?

Ed closed his eyes, trying to stop his thoughts but they kept spinning through his head at the speed of light so that he barely registered one before it was gone, another taking its place.

Of course, there was the possibility that it felt like betraying Hughes’ memory. Ed wasn’t sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Would the dead never cease to haunt them?

But Roy was right. If it was nothing more than a fling and they hated each other afterward, did he really want to do it? They had… something even if it wasn’t friendship like Roy insisted. And Roy knew every mistake he’d made. They were something even if it didn’t fit into a culturally acceptable norm. He was pretty sure there wasn’t a word for the relationship between a former-subordinate-and-superior-that-had-saved-the-world-and-stopped-the-Homuncli-together.

Ed rolled onto his side and stared at the wall and hoped that he would get some sleep before morning.

 


	5. Roy's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Get him."

Roy waited until Ed had disappeared inside the bathroom for a shower before hurriedly getting his identification out of his suitcase and leaving the room. He smiled at the receptionist at the desk and headed out into the street.

Ed would have insisted on going with him and Roy didn’t feel like having the screaming argument that he knew would take place when he said no.

There were five informants that he needed to talk to while in Aergo but he was only thinking about one at the moment. Lieutenant Colonel Maxwell Flint was in Intelligence and Roy had heard only good things about him from Colonel Pringle in Central. He’d taken over Intelligence after the Promised Day.

Flint was… unmemorable. Of course, Roy had seen his picture in his file but at the time he’d simply thought that the man wasn’t photogenic. If anything, Flint was even more plain in real life. His hair was a non-descript neutral color, he was of medium height, and if Roy hadn’t known the man was thirty-nine he would have said he was somewhere between twenty and forty. 

Roy watched the man sitting on a park bench, arms folded behind his head, his face tilted to the sky with a smile on his lips. He was alone on the bench but there was a file next to him, closed and unreadable.

It occurred to Roy that he might be waiting for someone so he simply remained on his own bench, a newspaper open before him.

But an hour and then two passed and no one approached Flint and he remained sitting like that, perfectly calm and casual as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

Roy frowned. This was the man in charge of Aerugo’s Intelligence? Hawkeye was ten times as efficient and she was only a Major! Good grief, _Havoc_ was more efficient!

And then Roy saw it. Just for a second. The man lifted his head and turned it away from Roy as if looking for someone and Roy saw it. There, on his neck, under his chin but not clearly visible, something glowed bluish-white for a moment before becoming black again.

Roy went still. An alchemic reaction.

A woman appeared then and sat down next to Flint, picking up the folder as she did so. Roy could clearly see her platinum blonde hair spilling over her shoulders in soft waves and her perfect figure in a dress that left nothing to the imagination.

Flint turned, clearly pleased to see her and looking at her as if she was the whole world. She raised a hand and her fingers brushed under his chin against the mark. The man’s eyes lost their focus for a moment and Roy suddenly felt his pulse quicken.

What kind of alchemy was this? What was she doing?

She leaned forward as if to whisper something in his ear and then kissed him on the lips. It was brief but Flint looked as though he’d just received his every wish fulfilled. She stood up with a little hand wave and walked away.

Flint rose to his feet and started walking and suddenly Roy knew he needed to get a good look at that design. He got to his feet and hurried after Flint. Once he caught up, he deliberately tripped the man and sent him sprawling to the ground.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Roy said in fake alarm as he knelt next to the man, pressing his hand to the man’s chin to lift it and leaned down as if to speak to him and looked at the mark.

It was a tattoo of an array but it was unlike anything Roy had seen before. He vaguely remembered Ed writing something about Creta’s alchemy and how they used ovals but more than anything, he got a feeling as if something cold and slimy was sliding down his neck. There was something very wrong about this alchemy.

Flint looked up at him with none of earlier fuzziness that the woman had managed to instill and scowled, shoving his hand away. “Just watch where you’re going!” He snapped, jerked to his feet and set off down the street without a backward glance.

Roy stood up, watching him go thoughtfully. It wasn’t possible that it was some kind of mind-control alchemy, was it? He felt sick at the thought. A year ago he would have said that it was impossible and dismissed it. But since then he’d seen Homunculi, the Gate, Al’s body restored, worked with a serial killer, and actually taken Oliver Armstrong out for dinner.

He wasn’t in a position to be calling something impossible.

Roy glanced around and suddenly realized that someone was watching him.

A small, slender girl with solemn eyes and her hair in two braids was gazing at him, her hand held by what looked like an older sibling.

Roy smiled at her charmingly and turned away, walking down the street and leaving the scene behind.

Of course he got completely lost on the way back to the apartment and eventually had to stop and ask for directions even though he _hated_ doing that. It made him look so much like a tourist.

He meant to ask Ed about the weird alchemy but then things just got…  out of hand and then Edward was kissing him and he couldn’t handle it. Just couldn’t. Not now when he couldn’t decide if he wanted to straggle Ed or kiss him senseless.

Not when he wasn’t sure whether Ed was serious or not. He didn’t think he could stand him not being serious. He’d wanted this for so long, wanted _Ed_ for so long that _how_ could he take this chance when he might mess it up…

So he pushed him away, and mumbled something about thinking about it. They retreated to their respective beds and went to sleep. At least Roy did, he didn’t know about Edward. He was exhausted from wandering around Aerugo’s capital city and thinking about Flint’s mark and he just fell asleep.

It had never occurred to Roy that they might not have more than one day. It never occurred to him that he shouldn’t have worried about people recognizing _him_ , but recognizing _Edward_.

It wasn’t soundless, which was there one small gift.

There was the sound of alchemy and Roy jerked awake just as Ed sat bolt upright with a hiss and Roy reached for his gloves which he always kept under his pillow but never on his fingers in case he snapped in the middle of a nightmare–

 The door swung open and someone threw something inside. It hit the floor and the room exploded in blinding white light.

“A flash grenade!” Ed shouted and Roy was too busy trying to fumble on his gloves, blinking hard as he tried to clear the afterimage out of his eyes, to respond which was probably a good thing since he undoubtedly would have said something like, “You don’t say.”

Roy got one glove on and heard someone rush into the room. He pointed his fingers in that direction –curse this blindness! It was like the Promised Day all over again! And snapped.

Fire ignited and lanced through the air and Roy heard a pained cry and knew that he had hit something at least as he leapt out of bed and half-crouched, feeling more than a little ridiculous in his thin cotton pants and sleeveless top. And he still couldn’t see right!

He could hear the distinct sounds of a scuffle and lots of growling and shouting coming from Edward but he _still_ couldn’t see right and he didn’t know how many were fighting or if Ed was even winning –

Someone was in front of him, with a knife and slashing down at his hand. Roy jerked back as he snapped again and this time he could see well enough to douse his attacker in flames. The man’s shrieks were horrible and for a second, through the afterimage still fucking up his vision, he saw the remaining dark shapes hesitated for a moment and then –

“Get him,” a voice ordered and several lunged at him at once.

Roy snapped catching several in the flames but one darted past his comrades, his clothes burning merrily and grabbed Roy’s arm, above the wrist. There was the light of an alchemic reaction and suddenly Roy felt strange. He felt as if he’d just drank a bottle of wine on an empty stomach an experience he had had before. He gasped and staggered, light-headed and nauseous and unsteady and desperately trying to focus because he needed his wits if he was going to use alchemy and he needed to use alchemy –

“Nicely done, Ian,” a woman’s voice above him purred. “Don’t let go of him.”

Roy threw a punch toward the man’s face and caught him on the jaw but there was hardly any strength in it and he just shook it off, holding on firmly to Roy’s arm.

“Roy!” Ed shouted and then gave a sudden pained gasp and fell abruptly silent.

“Ed,” Roy tried to yell but his voice came out as a wheeze. The feeling was growing worse, more intense, now his head was throbbing and felt like it would explode –

“I think he’s going to pass out if I keep it up much longer,” said the man that had Roy’s wrist and kept holding it as he sank to his knees, panting.

“That’s fine,” the woman’s voice said silkily. “He’ll be easier to deal with unconscious.” Footsteps came nearer and then nails were lifting Roy’s chin and he was staring into the face of the woman he’d seen earlier with Flint and he thought that he might just be sick all over her and it was a rather satisfying thought.

Her nails tightened, biting his skin, as she leaned forward and whispered, “You should have stayed in Central, _General Mustang_.”

And then everything really did go black and Roy lost consciousness.


	6. Body, Mind, Heart, and Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Because they love me," Roy said quietly. "More than they love Amestris."

Ed snapped awake so suddenly that it felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over him. He jolted upright, gasping and scrabbling desperately for his knives that –weren’t there.

Ed forced himself to take several deep breaths and looked around. He was tied to a metal stake in the middle of the floor, his hands and feet bound and the rough hemp biting into his skin. He grunted, grimaced and pushed himself up into a sitting position, briefly grateful that he had enough rope for that.

Then he saw the figure in the corner. Unmoving and still.

Ed’s heart almost stopped and his breath didn’t bother with the almost. “Roy?” Ed whispered then shouted, “Hey, bastard!”

Roy neither stirred nor moved and Ed crawled desperately toward him until the rope pulled taunt and drew him up short. He stretched out his bound hands and tried to grab Roy’s boot but it wasn’t any good. At least another five inches separated them.

So he shouted insults, orders and pleas until he was hoarse and Roy still hadn’t stirred a muscle.

Ed was starting to feel really panicked when the door opened and two men walked in. It was obvious from their uniforms that they were part of the Amestris military and Ed felt his stomach clench and he stopped yelling, watching them warily.

“Little one’s awake at least,” the one on the left with the beard muttered as he walked past Ed, keeping carefully out of reach and toward Roy.

“Get away from him!” Ed shouted and lunged but again the rope drew him up short. He struggled furiously against the end of it, trying to reach the man and stop him from hurting Roy even though it wasn’t possible.

The other soldier, this one with a bulge in his cheek laughed mockingly, “You’d almost think it was his lover lying there instead of his former C.O.”

Beardy said, “Wouldn’t that be something? General Mustang, _future Fuhrer of Amestris_ ,” the scorn in his tone almost burned Ed’s ears, “getting it on with a boy half his age.”

“What did you do to him?!” Ed yelled, still desperately fighting his restraints.

Beardy gave him a disgusted look, “He’s not dead, idiot. He wouldn’t be any good to us dead.”

A large part of the lump of chilling terror in his chest softened and his heart started beating again. “What did you do to him?” Ed repeated although he was calmer now.

Beardy just ignored him and stood up. “We can check again in an hour,” he said to his companion and they left the room, acting as if Ed’s rants didn’t exist.

Once they were gone, Ed relaxed against his bonds and looked at Mustang again. So he wasn’t dead. That probably shouldn’t be comforting considering that these people couldn’t have anything good in mind for them but he was alive and that was enough for Ed.

“Roy,” he said softly, “you’ve got to wake up. Please, wake up.”

Roy didn’t stir and Ed swallowed hard, and sat on the floor. “Please, wake up, Roy. Please.”

Ed didn’t know how many times he repeated his whispered mantra before the door swung open again and Beardy and his friend returned. They checked Mustang again, ignored Ed and left when Roy was still out of it.

It happened twice more and Ed had given up whispering and was lying on his side, just watching Roy when the bastard finally moved. It was just a twitch at first and then it was a shudder and then Roy’s hand clenched. He was too far back for Ed to see his face clearly but when he jolted, Ed guessed that he’d opened his eyes.

He was still for a moment, and Ed could see he was taking deep breaths and holding them before he suddenly sat up and looked around wildly. “Ed?” He gasped and then saw him and relief flooded his face like the sunrise. “Thank god,” he whispered and reached out toward him and stopped.

He looked down at his wrists and then sighed quietly. His hands were in restraints that prevented his ability to clap his hands together and transmute. They’d also rid him of his gloves. He looked up again and his eyes searched Ed’s face desperately. “Are you all right? You’re not hurt?”

“My head hurts like hell and I think one of my ribs is cracked. Otherwise I’m fine. Are you okay? I saw the flash of alchemy and then that guy grab you and you turned green and started swaying like you were going to fall over.”

“I feel like my stomach’s trying to crawl out of my throat,” Roy said with a grimace. “Please forgive me if I have to cut this conversation short and face the wall.”

Ed couldn’t prevent a bark of laughter at that. “How you can sit there in a fuckin’ cell and talk like you’re at a society banquet is beyond me.”

 Roy was quiet for a moment then he sighed. “I wasn’t planning on this.” Then his eyes suddenly widened and he lunged forward as if a thought had occurred to him. “Ed,” he said urgently, trying to reach him and Ed was surprised to see that he actually had enough length to reach him if only to brush their fingertips together. “Ed, they didn’t- they didn’t put anything on you, did they?” He asked, his eyes searching Ed’s face and hands and every inch of bare skin for whatever he was afraid of.

Ed scowled, “No, they didn’t. Stop panicking.”

Roy swallowed hard. “Did they put something on me?”

“Not since I’ve been awake.”

Roy didn’t seem satisfied and began searching his body for something.

“What are you afraid of?” Ed asked, frowning.

“Flint, one of the informants, I saw him today and he had this tattoo of an array on his skin and he – he acted like he wasn’t even in control of himself.”

Ed’s eyes narrowed. “And you only bother to tell me this now?”

“I was going to tell you when I got back and then things kind of got… out of hand.”

Ed snarled. “You should have fuckin’ told me anyway, bastard!”

The door opened before Roy could respond and Beardy and his companion were there. “Ah, you’re finally awake,” Beady grumbled.

Ed tensed and tried to lunge forward, to grab Roy and try and pull him close, to protect him, stay with him– _anything_ –

But Beardy just kicked him hard in the ribs as he passed, unlocked Roy’s chains and dragged him to his feet. Roy looked as though his stomach was in revolt and soon the contents would be all over their boots but he swallowed hard and managed to keep it down.

“Where are you taking him!?” Ed yelled as they led Roy to the door and Beardy’s companion gave Ed another bored look and turned away.

“Ed, just stay here,” Roy said quietly and Ed wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Doesn’t look like I’ve got much choice, does it, bastard?”

Roy shot him a smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring but only made him feel more desperate and then they were out of the cell and locking the door behind them.

It was impossible to stand up or even to flex his fingers so Ed half-crawled half-rolled over to the stake that his ropes were tied to and tried to work it out of the floor. He strained and pulled to no avail. When his wrists were chaffed and bleeding he gave up and sat back, looking around for something that might work as a weapon or give him a cutting edge.

When he couldn’t find anything, he started thinking about what Al might be doing in Xing and then he wondered how Ling was doing, ruling the country and if Lan Fan was still his bodyguard (stupid thought; like she’d be doing anything else) and then he wondered whether Major Miles had killed Scar yet.

He recited the periodic table. Then he did it backward.

He tried to imagine that conversation he was going to have with Winry when, when, he got out of this cell.

“Winry, I’m gay,” seemed a little blunt. “Winry, it’s not you, it’s me,” was far too cliché. “Winry, you don’t really want to marry me right?” Was probably also not a good idea because she wouldn’t have agreed if she didn’t, right? “Winry, I’m in love with someone else,” would probably get him killed.

Would she be shocked to find out that he loved a man instead of her or would she take it with good grace? Would she still want to be his automail mechanic or would she never want to see him again?

Oh, _no_. What was _Granny_ going to say?

Ed squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t thought how it was going to affect Granny. Winry was her granddaughter, she would be _furious_ if he hurt Winry.

Al would be furious if he hurt Winry. Fuck, he hadn’t even told Al that he’d proposed to Winry. It had been more than three months and he hadn’t even mentioned it.

_This is great,_ Ed thought; _I’m not even thinking about Roy._

And then he thought, _fuck, now I’m thinking about him again._

How long had it been since they’d taken him? Would he be whole when they brought him back? Would he be conscious? Would he even be alive?

Ed didn’t know how much time passed before the door opened and Roy was shoved inside, landing hard on his side before the door slammed shut. Ed didn’t have a moment to spare to be thankful that they hadn’t chained him up again and strained forward to the edge of his rope to reach Roy and again was pulled up short.

“Roy! Are you hurt?”

Roy sat up, grimacing as he did and Ed saw the blood on his arm and hissed out a breath. “It’s okay, it’s just a flesh wound,” Roy said quickly. “They just wanted my team to hear me scream.”

Ed blinked, confused. “Your team?”

Roy’s lips quirked in a humorless smile and he moved closer so that he could reach out and touch Ed’s shoulder gently with his manacled hands. “Guess what? We were wrong. Those assassins weren’t trying to kill me after all. They were just supposed to run me out of Central right into the waiting hands of the Insanity Alchemist who has an array that can turn people into mindless puppets. Which is what she did to Flint. However, she can’t do it to me or you because there have to be feelings there to begin with or the array won’t work. So, you and I are hostages until the military grants their demands and then you and I will be returned in more or less the same shape.”

Roy’s lips twisted into a grimace. “And if any of my team buys that I am firing their sorry asses the moment we get out of here.”

Ed held up both bounds wrists and tried to make a waving gesture. “Sorry, too much information. Run that by me again?”

Roy sighed and bowed his head. “Right, sorry, I just can’t believe that I was so stupid. I mean, eight attempts by well-trained assassins and I’m still alive. I should have realized something was fishy.”

“Marine life aside, what was that about the Insanity Alchemist? And a mind-control array?”

Roy took a deep breath. “Obviously that’s not her name, it’s just the one I picked since they refuse to give me a name. But apparently, the woman she trained under was obsessed with the idea of being able to control men and spent her whole life working on an array that would allow her to do just that. She didn’t really explain it but from what I understand, once there are genuine feelings for the alchemist in question, if she activates the array on their skin, they’re hers to control. They’ll go about their lives pretty much as normal but they’re under her thumb and whatever she tells them to do, they’ll do.”

Ed’s eyes narrowed. “That’s bullshit. Alchemy can’t do things like that. It controls elements not _people_.”

“Yeah, and Homunculi were impossible until they were real and beating the stuffing out of you. Doing alchemy without a circle was impossible until you did it. Brining your brother’s body back from the Gate was impossible until Al was back. After everything that’s happened in the past few years, why is mind-control alchemy so far-fetched?”

Ed gritted his teeth. “I don’t like the sound of it,” he said grimly. “Just think of what would happen if it leaked out that alchemists could do that.” He shuddered.

“Don’t worry about that for now. I got the impression that the Insanity Alchemist wants to keep this ability to herself.”

“But you said they wanted your team to hear you,” Ed said, focusing on the other part that had confused him.

“They put a call into Central with their demands. They had me speak to Hawkeye so she’d know it wasn’t a ruse then shot me to make it clear how serious they are.”

“What were their demands?”

“Some political prisoners released.” He rolled his eyes. “Surprise, surprise, all members or Bradley’s old guard.”

“Will they do it?” Ed whispered, staring at Roy’s arm. It had been wrapped with a bandage to stop the bleeding but the cloth was soaked and dripping.

Roy’s mouth tightened. “They’d better not,” he said grimly.

“But you’re not sure they won’t?”

Roy dropped his eyes and mumbled something under his breath that Ed couldn’t quite catch.

He shuffled closer. “Can you say that again?”

Roy sighed deeply. “Insanity said that they would because…” His voice trailed off and he turned away from Ed. “Never mind.”

“Roy,” Ed said, nudging his shoulder with his bound hands. “Tell me.”

“Because they love me,” Roy said quietly. “More than they love Amestris.”

Ed’s heart caught for an instant and then for some reason, soared. Because there was no way that the people that worked side by side with Roy every day could not love him. Hell, Ed would let Amestris burn without a second thought if it meant saving Roy. But the low tone of Roy’s voice perplexed him.

“You think she’s wrong?” He asked equally softly.

Roy shook his head. “I know she’s right. In the beginning they wouldn’t have; I didn’t chose idiots. They were behind me but they would always put their duty to Amestris first. But now…”

“Now you’re afraid they won’t,” Ed murmured. “That they’ll put you first.”

“There have been… incidents over the past year that would leave me to believe that they will. Things I sharply reprimanded them for at the time but which didn’t stop them from doing something similar again.” Roy sighed and massaged his temples without hitting his face on the board separating his hands. “They’ve never been the most obedient which I only reinforced by insisting they think for themselves.”

“Hey, Hawkeye’s not dumb,” Ed said. “She won’t let them do anything stupid.”

“Of all of them, Edward, I’m afraid she would be the first to make a rash decision if it regarded me,” Roy said dryly. “It’s moments like this I wish for Falman. It’s amazing how he could always look at things logically and rationally. He wouldn’t let them do anything without thinking it through first.”

“Would they have the authority to release prisoners? Wouldn’t the Fuhrer have to agree to that?”

Roy’s shoulders hunched. “At the moment, that is the only hope I’m clinging to. Grumman has too much sense to do something like that especially when he knows how fickle abductors can be. Even if they did everything Insanity demanded, I highly doubt that we would make it out alive. She’s made it clear just how much she hates me.”

“She’s not someone you snubbed in the past, is she?” Ed asked, trying to lighten the tension.

“No,” Roy said shortly then turned back and looked at Ed. A different tension replaced the one before it and Ed saw an odd look in Roy’s eyes.

He shifted uncomfortably. “What?”

“Did you mean it? Everything you said back at the hotel?” Roy asked.

Ed stared at him then laughed a little hysterically. “You’re thinking about that at a time _like this_?”

“Ed, there’s no guarantee that we’re going to get out of this,” Roy said simply, flatly. “I’ve thought about it and I don’t want us to die without saying –”

“Don’t,” Ed interrupted. His chest felt like it was being squeezed painfully tight and he scooted several feet away from Roy. “I don’t want you to say something now that you’ll regret _when_ we get out of here.”

Roy smiled sadly, almost mournfully. “I won’t regret it, Ed.”

Ed closed his eyes and bowed his head. “I offered _twice_ , Roy and you pushed me away _both_ times.”

“Because I was afraid,” Roy said his voice low. “I was afraid to respond, afraid to accept because I thought that once you came to your senses that you wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

Ed lifted his head and stared at him for a moment. Then he half laughed, half sobbed and dropped his head onto his knees. “Once I came to my senses?” He repeated to his knees. “Roy, I fuckin’ _love_ you. It took me two years and another man to figure it out but it’s not going to change between today and tomorrow. I don’t think I could not love you if I wanted to. I know it’s complicated and I know that we fight more than not, and I know that you’re going to be Fuhrer and I’m just a has-been alchemist but if you said we could, I would crawl over broken glass to give us a chance –mmh!”

His final words were cut off because Roy had moved forward, lifted his chin and kissed him. Ed allowed himself to melt against Roy’s lips and kiss back with every ounce of energy and desire he had. Then Roy was tilting his head and running his tongue over his bottom lip and he opened his mouth and –

_Oh._

Rowan had been a good kisser. At least, Ed had thought so, he hadn’t really had anyone to compare him to but Roy… Roy had to have been the best kisser in Amestris. It was like melting and taming; it was fire and warmth, it was like heaven and hell, it was passion and softness, it was love and desire and why– _why_ had this taken so long?

This was _living_. This feeling inside his chest, so intense that he felt like he would burst at any second, burned and at that moment all he wanted was Roy.

Roy finally drew away, panting a bit, eyes sparkling and hopeful and so– _full_ –

Ed smiled at him and Roy smiled back and it didn’t even feel stupid. It felt _right_.

It lasted for twenty glorious seconds.

Then Roy’s smile faded and he glanced back down at their bonds and grimaced. “We need to get these off,” he said.

Right, they very much did need to do that. Not being able to touch Roy was killing him slowly. “If we could cut these ropes,” Ed began, lifting his hands and stopped. He’d been about to say, “If we cut these ropes, I can use alchemy and get us out of here,” but he couldn’t.

If Roy caught the unspoken words, he didn’t let on. “There isn’t anything for us to cut them on,” he said, and pursed his lips. “If… if we could make a spark–”

“You still don’t have the array,” Ed pointed out.

Roy gave him a quick flash of a smile. “Don’t need it. I’ve seen the Gate remember?”

Oh. Okay, that was fucking _hot_. “R-right,” Ed stammered. “So, something to make a spark?”

An hour later, both of them were willing to agree that short of a miracle, they weren’t going to be able to make a spark. There were no loose stones or rocks in the cell and while Ed couldn’t actually help look as he was tied up, Roy scoured the entire room before admitting that there was nothing.

That left them looking for other solutions.

“Let’s jump the guards the next time they come in,” Ed said.

Roy arched his eyebrows and lifted his arms so that Ed could see the restraints around his wrists easier. “And what would you propose I do? Kick them with my unbelievable ninja skills?”

“Whack ‘em with that board thing between your wrists.”

“Enthralling as that idea undoubtedly is, perhaps you should reconsider.”

Ed scowled. “Why would I do that?”

“You’re not taking into account the height of our guards.”

Ed stared. “Did… did you just admit that you’re short?”

“I did no such thing. I simply said that our guards are taller,” Roy huffed.

“Ha! You said you’re short!” Ed chortled.

“You’re shorter than I am, Edward, so what does that make you?”

“Makes me normal-sized, bastard,” Ed growled. “So, fine. Jump.”

“Ah, yes, I can see it now. Our guards will enter, one after the other through the door and when the first one is through I will leap forward, my restrained wrists raised to hit him over the head, perhaps yelling some kind of battle cry?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Roy sighed. “You are impossible.”

“You want to get out of here or not?”

“Edward, you’re forgetting the second guard who won’t even have entered the room at that point.”

“Hit him too.”

“While performing another gravity defying leap?”

“Don’t know why you sound so damn sarcastic about it.”

“Because it’s a ridiculous plan,” Roy said, obviously exasperated.

Ed hunched his shoulders and glared back. “I don’t see you coming up with any brilliant ideas over there!”

Roy sighed and bowed his head. He didn’t look up for several moments, remaining still and suddenly all Ed could see was him lying still in the corner, not knowing if he was dead or alive–

Ed moved and caught Roy by his ankle and pulled him forward, almost pulling him off balance.

Roy made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a choke and then Ed had lifted his arms, lowering them around Roy’s neck, pressing his face into his shirt. “Ed?”

Ed’s fingers curled and he took a breath that felt like it sent daggers through every inch of skin because it hurt–so–fucking– _much_. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered. “When–before you woke up, you were–lying there so still and you wouldn’t wake up and I–I thought you were gone–”

Roy understood. Of course he did. He did his best to pull Ed close but the restraints made it difficult and awkward and–

His lips curved dryly. Wasn’t that just them?

“I’m still here,” Roy murmured softly, nuzzling his temple with his nose which should have been stupid and sappy but was somehow okay. Really okay. Better than okay. “I’m still here, Ed.”

Ed inhaled deeply, trying to memorize Roy’s scent that was all smoke and sweat and power and how had he ever lived without it? Was there any honor in Amestris greater than being allowed to be this close to this man? When was the last time anyone had peeled away the layers and looked beneath the surface? When was the last time that someone had asked Roy who he was and not what he was?

Because Ed knew what he was.

He was a killer. He was a human weapon. He was full of pain and contradictions. He was dangerous. He was powerful. He was broken.

But Ed was all of those things too.

No, anyone could know _what_ Roy was.

_Who_ he was… Ed could spend the rest of his life learning.

“When will they come back, do you think?” Ed whispered finally.

“I don’t know,” Roy’s voice was low but he didn’t whisper. “Maybe we should try to get some sleep.”

Ed shook his head and leaned harder into him. He didn’t want to sleep. Sleep would steal time that he wasn’t sure either he or Roy could afford to lose. If they had a day, if they had an hour, he didn’t want to spend it sleeping.

He opened his mouth to speak and suddenly there was a crackle above them. Ed titled his head back and Roy did the same, quickly disentangling themselves and pulling apart. A circle opened in the ceiling and a head appeared over the rim. It brightened after a moment. “Ah, General Mustang?”

There was a moment of baffled silence but Roy was always quick to adjust. He stood up, gazing up at the man, “Yes?”

“Ah, wonderful! I found you!” The man grasped the edge of the ceiling, frowned then looked around. “Rope,” Ed heard him mutter before he disappeared from their sight.

Ed and Roy exchanged glances but then the man was back and throwing a rope down and climbing down it in the manner of someone that had never, ever climbed down a rope before in his life. It was hilarious and if Ed hadn’t been in shock, he probably would have laughed.

The man rose to his feet and brushed his clothes off and it was then that Ed noticed that he wore the uniform of the Amestris military and bristled.

The man glanced at Ed, obviously curious then turned to Roy and held out his hand, smiling. “Major Aaron Brix, sir. The Precise Alchemist. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” He leaned forward and added conspiratorially, “Undercover, sir. Received word about your being taken hostage and tracked you down to this place with the help of your Sergeant Fuery.”

Ed saw the brief _who-is-this-idiot_ expression flash across his face before it was gone, replaced by cool confidence. “The honor is all mine, I’m sure. Forgive me if I don’t shake your hand; I’m a little tied up at the moment.”

Major Brix looked briefly abashed and reached into a pocket, pulling out a piece of chalk and quickly drawing an array on the restraint before touching his hands to it.

They fell open and landed on the floor.

Roy smiled and flexed his fingers.

Ed tried not to feel jealous because in that smile was all the confidence that he used to have. It said _I’m the best at what I do and I know it._

“We should get you out of here,” Major Brix began but Roy had already knelt next to Ed, clapping his hands together and pressing them to the ropes. They unraveled and fell to the ground and Ed stood up, trying to rub feeling back into his wrists.

“Weapon?”

Roy nodded and clapped his hands together and pressed them to the floor again. A spear rose out of the ground and Ed grabbed it and flashed a quick smile. “Fuck.”

Major Brix was beginning to look alarmed. “Uh, my orders were just to get you out,” he began but both Ed and Roy had already turned toward the door.

“Are there any soldiers undercover in there?” Roy asked.

“No, we just found you because one of the soldiers turned on her and came to us. He’s back at the station but–”

“Let’s kick some ass,” Ed said.

Roy grinned and turned back to Brix. “You wouldn’t have a lighter on you, by any chance, Major?”

“No, I don’t!” Major Brix said and Roy shrugged.

“Oh well.” He walked up to the door, clapped his hands and pressed them to the lock. It clicked and Roy opened the door.

Ed heard the shout and a second later, Roy had clapped and pressed his hands to the side of the wall.

Ed pushed past him and focused on the third guard that hadn’t been trapped with alchemy and lunged forward. The man reached for his gun, pulled it free and pointed it at Ed–

Too late. Ed brought the spear down hard, burying the spear tip into his hand and he howled and dropped the gun and Ed swept past, knocking his legs out from under him and slamming the shaft of the spear over his head as he fell.

 “I missed this,” Ed said, grinning as he spun the spear between his fingers.

Roy’s hand rested against his shoulder and he looked up at him, his grin temporarily slipping but Roy was smiling down at him, his eyes bright. “Together?” He said pleasantly.

Ed snorted, spinning the spear faster. “Duh, Mustang.”

There weren’t actually that many it turned out. They subdued another six after the first three before they made it to the last room in the hall. Roy tapped his shoulder and murmured, “Watch it. Insanity’s got to be in there.”

“Unless she left,” Ed said but he tensed when Roy pulled the door open and the room beyond was revealed–

There was the spark of alchemy and Ed threw himself forward, knocking Roy off his feet and rolling them across the floor, covering his body with his as spikes erupted from the door frame.

He leapt to his feet, snarling, flourishing his spear and raced toward the woman –

She slammed her hand against an array drawn on the wall and spikes erupted between them. Ed skidded to a stop, just barely avoiding the closet one and looked past them to Insanity. She was… plain. Somehow Ed had expected someone beautiful and dazzling, at the very least, refined and sophisticated. Her hair was thin and flat, her features were unmemorable, her eyes were small and–

Mad.

Ed had seen eyes like that before. Envy had eyes like that. Shou Tucker had eyes like that. Kimblee had eyes like that. Something deep inside had snapped and it was there, so obvious it was painful and practically indecent to see.

He understood why Roy had called her Insanity now.

She didn’t smile at him though, and for that, at least, he was grateful. “You’re messing everything up!” She screamed, and raised her hands. Ed could see the arrays drawn all over them and on the backs as well.

Her hands were coming together when Roy grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved him down as he stepped past and clapped his hands together and pressed them to the wall.

The alchemical reactions happened simultaneously. Insanity’s turned the wood table into two spears sharpened to knife points and she snatched them up, one in each hand. Roy’s became an arm that extended from the wall and reached for her.

She slammed the spears into the earth hand and it shattered. She advanced on Roy, eyes blazing, swinging the spears wildly back and forth.

Roy stepped back his face impassive, but Ed thought he saw a calculating gleam in his eyes. “Shame you’ll never get to share your arrays with the world,” Roy said pleasantly. “All that work. For what? You’ll be just another has-been alchemist.”

Insanity’s face twisted and then, she burst out laughing. “You think you can taunt me with fame? You think that’s what I wanted?” Her laughter became a scream and she lunged toward Roy, both spears moving. “You think that’s what I WANTED!?”

Roy danced backward and Ed pushed himself up from the floor, trying to get behind her but she saw him and moved, throwing one of the spears over her shoulder directly at him. He ducked and it flew over his head. “Get back, little boy!” She shrieked.

Ed’s face darkened and he darted back to snatch up the fallen spear. He might not have his alchemy any more but he didn’t need it to kick this lady into next week.

Roy, amazingly, still wanted to talk. “So what did you want?” He prompted, backing away out of reach of her flailing spear. “What did those prisoners mean to you? Why drag me into this? You could have used one of the other generals.”

“You gave the Ishvallans back their land! You campaigned for their rights! You sent them away!”

“I sent them home. To rebuild,” Roy countered, still moving around the room while Ed followed after Insanity as she stalked after Roy. “To repair the damage that the military caused.”

“They went back!” Insanity screamed. “All of them! Even…” She lunged forward again, this time clearly intent on sending her spear through Roy’s stomach.

Ed took his opportunity to sweep her legs out from under her as Roy dropped to his knees, clapped his hands together and pressed them to the ground.

Ed’s blow sent her spinning to the floor, spear flying out of her hand and ropes of earth shot up and wrapped around her, too thick to break without the use of alchemy and lashing her hands tightly together, preventing her from bringing them apart.

Insanity screamed and twisted as if trying to escape from her own skin as Roy rose to his feet and Ed moved to his side. “You alright?” Ed asked, looking him over.

Roy nodded. “Are you?” He asked. He looked a little breathless but Ed thought that there was a clarity to them now that had been lacking before.

Ed nodded and they both turned to look back at Insanity.

“What should we do with her?” Ed asked finally.

Roy pursed his lips. “I’d say take her back with us to Amestris but it would be difficult to that without someone here in Aerugo noticing what we’re doing.”

“Don’t forget we’ve got the Precise Alchemist hanging around,” Ed muttered.

Roy gazed down at Insanity as she struggled and raged. He sighed, clapped his hands together against the bottom of his shirt and came away with a thick long piece of cloth. He walked to Insanity’s side and tied it over her mouth. Her shrieks became slightly muffled and Roy sat back with a sigh of relief. “That’s better, now I can hear myself think,” he said, standing up.

Ed was momentarily distracted by the flash of skin that Roy destroying the lowering half of his shirt had revealed. “This isn’t Amestris,” he said, averting his eyes before Roy could catch him staring and make a smug comment about it. “We can’t exactly drag her back across the border.”

Roy looked at him gravely for a moment then turned and left the room without a word. Ed hesitated and started to follow him before stopping again. He waited instead, watching Insanity as she struggled and raged before eventually falling silent.

Roy finally reappeared and in his right hand he held…

Ed swallowed suddenly. He’d known that no other option was open to them, that it was this or let her go because they couldn’t turn her over to the Aerugo military without revealing their own identities as alchemists. They didn’t really have any other choices.

Roy met his gaze unflinchingly. “Wait outside,” he said, flicking the safety off the gun.

Ed stiffened at his words, and glared, “I’ve seen people die before, bastard,” he snarled.

“I don’t want you to watch me do it,” Roy said quietly.

Ed felt his lips curve bitterly. “We’re deciding her fate. Does that make us any better than the Homunculi?”

“Edward, she’s not going to stop.” Roy’s voice was still soft, still so fucking gentle that it burned like salt in an open wound– “And this time she might hurt other people. Not just me and you, but my team and any civilians that get in her way. I’m sorry.”

He’s killed before, Ed thought. And he knows that I never have. He’s letting me keep my hands bloodless. Do I really want his protection? Do I want to let him keep me innocent?

He swallowed hard. Insanity had gone still, clearly listening to their discussion but he had no desire to look at her. “Will you,” he began and his throat was too dry and his voice cracked. He cleared it, tried again, “Will you be alright?”

Roy nodded once but he didn’t smile.

Ed clenched his hands, forced himself to look away from the gun in Roy’s hands and walked out of the room. He leaned against the wall for a few moments and waited.

There was crack of a shot and then silence.

Roy emerged a few minutes later and Ed noted that he’d discarded the gun. There were powder burns on his fingers.

He stopped in front of Ed and hesitated as if he wasn’t sure of his welcome now. Ed reached out silently, took his right hand and held it up for a second before lacing their fingers together. Roy’s face softened with genuine relief and he tugged Ed forward until he was leaning against his chest.

“I’m gonna see you to the top, Roy,” Ed whispered. “I promised, remember?”

“Most people forget what that entails,” Roy said, almost too low for Ed to catch.

“I never forgot. Because this isn’t who you are, Roy. It’s part of you but it’s not _who_ _you_ _are_.” He lifted the hand that wasn’t held in Roy’s to rap his knuckles lightly against his chest. “There’s a lot more,” he whispered.

There was a moment of silence and Ed felt something wet drop onto the back of his hand before Roy said lightly, “Indeed there is but perhaps now is not the moment to discover it.”

Ed tilted his head back to stare at him and saw that Roy was smirking down at him. He opened his mouth, expecting a sarcastic comment but what came out was, “Fuck. Winry’s going to kill me.”

 


	7. Roy's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, if he was offering.

“’The Flame Alchemist Teams Up with the Former Alchemist of the People to Take Down a Rogue Alchemist!’” Havoc read out when the two walked into the office. “’Previously thought to be missing, Brigadier General Mustang, next in line for the position of Fuhrer, turns up alive in well in the company of the former Fullmetal Alchemist! The future Fuhrer had fled Central to–”

“Havoc, you’re just embarrassing yourself,” Fuery said, and stood up and saluted Roy. “Glad to have you back, sir!”

Roy saluted back and Ed didn’t bother hiding his smirk as he sauntered past and snatched the newspaper out of Havoc’s hand to read the article himself.

Roy had already read it and knew that Ed would find it hilarious. It was largely inaccurate, too dramatically written, and clearly hinted that the future Fuhrer was not only courageous and handsome, but that he was also brilliant and had withstood torture.

Ed was going to laugh himself silly.

Hawkeye gave them both the disapproving raised eyebrow from behind her desk. “You were supposed to arrive at eleven hundred hours, sir,” she said.

Roy fought the urge to smirk and carefully didn’t glance at Ed. He’d bet his entire salary that his ears were beet red behind the newspaper. “I’m very sorry, Major. I’m afraid that I had several things to tend to before I could make it.”

Hawkeye’s expression softened and she gave him a genuine smile. “I’m glad that you’ve returned safely, sir.”

“Yeah, bravo, you’re going to be even more insufferable now. Wonderful. Your absence in the office has been miserable and that’s exactly what you’re going to be when you see the stack of paperwork on your desk,” Breda said.

 Ed looked up and Roy finally risked a glance at him. His ears _were_ red but he was grinning at Breda. “I always forget that Roy’s not the only smartass around here,” he said.

Breda smirked at him, tilting his head. “It’s a position that we hold trials for every week.”

Ed chuckled before turning back to the paper. Before he did, he glanced at Roy and their eyes met. Ed had been beyond gorgeous when Roy had taken him back to his house, all flushed and eager, making the most delicious sounds when Roy kissed his neck and nipped at his collarbone–

Ed turned bright red and ducked back behind his newspaper.

Roy grinned lazily. “You all might compete but everyone knows who gets the most dates a week,” he told Breda.

Havoc scoffed. “Yeah, Fuery.”

Roy scowled at him. “That was _once_. And I was still getting my eyesight back so it doesn’t count.”

“Kendra and I are dating again actually,” Fuery said and blushed when they all turned to look at him. “What?”

“Man, either you like her or you don’t,” Havoc grunted. “Enough with the on-again off-again already. Becky and I have been dating six months now.” His eyes got a bit dreamy. “Did I tell you about the time she–”

“Yes, you have,” Havoc, Roy and Breda chorused in unison and Havoc turned his nose up in the air.

“You’re all so jealous,” he said, and bent his head over his paperwork again.

Roy sighed. He really didn’t want to see the load of paperwork but there was no avoiding it forever.

He glanced back at Edward and found another smile fighting to be free. He’d forgotten how distracting a new lover could be but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to enjoy every minute of it.

He left them in the outer office and had to repress a groan when he saw the pile of paperwork on his desk. It really was a horrible sight.

He reluctantly settled down to it but he’d only been working for an hour when the door opened. Roy knew there was only one person who would walk in without knocking. “Is there something you wanted, Edward?”

There was a moment of silence then Ed cleared his throat and Roy looked up. His lover wasn’t looking at him; he was staring at the floor. “’veotgotoushvalley,” he mumbled.

Roy raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry?”

Ed sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging on his bangs. “I’ve got to go to Rush Valley,” he said, raising his gaze to meet Roy’s.

Ah, yes. “Miss Rockbell, I imagine,” Roy said, trying to sound causal.

Ed nodded glumly. “Yeah.” He looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I need to tell her. Letting things fester isn’t going to help in the long run.”

That was… surprisingly insightful of him. Roy should have known though; he knew how much Ed loved Winry. He’d even gone so far as to call her a sister during the past few days. Roy had carefully not pointed out that if that was how Ed felt about her, he should have known better than to ask her to marry him in the first place.

He folded his hands and looked at Ed considering. “When did you want to go?”

“I’m leaving on the three o’clock train,” Ed said.

Roy didn’t try to hide his disappointment. “But that’s in an hour,” he said.

Ed nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d find a way to convince me to stay and I need to go before that happens because it’s not going to get any easier to tell Winry that I don’t want to marry her.”

Roy smiled, stood up and left his desk. Ed looked at him a little curiously, but he merely walked around him to the door…

Which he locked.

He turned back around to see Ed cross his arms and give him a mock-furious look. “If you think we’re having sex in your office, you’d better think again.”

Roy grinned, stepped up beside his lover and snaked an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against Roy’s chest. Ed predictably turned pink and squirmed, not in a trying-to-get-free way, more in a I’m-protesting-this-on-principle way.

Roy lifted a hand to rest against his chest and then slid it downward, “Allow me to persuade you,” he murmured in Ed’s ear.

Ed made a delightful whimpering noise and arched his neck, giving Roy free access.

Well. If he was _offering_.


	8. Home is Where the Heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Winry, before I left, I asked you to marry me."

Ed really, really, _really_ hated Rush Valley. They were a bunch of freaks. In fact, if he never had to visit again, it would be too soon.

The only good thing about them was the way that they slowed down the inevitable moment when he turned up at Garfiel’s.

…which he finally did.

He saw Winry before she saw him; she was bending over someone’s auto mail arm and tinkering with it. Her patient was a middle-aged man with spiky brown hair and a plaid shirt and polka dotted pants. He was obviously eccentric, but Ed knew that Al would call him that on a good day, so it was hardly an insult. More of a subtle compliment.

And now that he was here, he had no idea what to say. He’d thought over a dozen different openings but they all came down to the same thing, “Winry, I’m gay which I didn’t realize until after I’d already asked you to marry me, which I can see now was a mistake because I hooked up with a guy not more than two months after I left you and I’m sorry for leading you to believe that we were going to have a future when I can’t sit still and I never had any intention to which wasn’t fair to you and I’m really sorry and I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Winry finished with her patient and was paid and he soon left. Ed took a deep breath and pushed the door open. It jingled and Winry called, “Just a minute!” From the back room. Leaving Ed fighting his shaking legs.

The thing was, he _really_ didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted the best for Winry and he knew that he wasn’t the best. He just hoped that she would understand.

She emerged a few minutes later, carrying a box of parts under one arm. She was wearing her typical mechanic clothes but her hair was tied back for once, away from her face. She looked up, saw him and dropped the box of parts. “Ed!” She flung herself forward and Ed managed to get his arms up in time to catch her.

She hugged him tightly and Ed tried not to feel too uncomfortable. Funny, before he’d asked her to marry him, it had never felt awkward or gauche.

 _I did this_ , he thought as he patted her back uncertainly. _I tried to make us something we were never meant to be. Winry, I’m so sorry._

She drew back and looked smiling up into his face. “I’m so glad you’re back!” Then she smacked him on the shoulder with a wrench. “You couldn’t have called and let me know that you were coming back for a visit?”

Ed smiled weakly. “I thought it would be more of a surprise like this.”

“Well it definitely is that!” Her smile faltered and she tilted her head to the side, suddenly looking concerned. “Did something happen? Did something go wrong? Is that why you’re back?”

Ed grimaced slightly. Well, she’s not wrong. “Can… we talk?”

Winry searched his face for a moment before calling over her shoulder to Mr. Garfiel, “I need to step out for a few minutes, Mr. Garfiel!” She didn’t give him time to protest; just grabbed Ed by the wrist and dragged him outside and down a back alley until they were a little way from the town.

Then she let go and turned to face him, her expression serious. “Did something happen to Al?”

“No!” Ed said quickly. “No, nothing’s wrong with Al.”

She frowned, her eyebrows drawing down as she thought. “Well, I know nothing’s wrong with Granny. Or with Mrs. Hughes or Elysia. So, what is it?” Then her face cleared as if she understood. “You got into trouble, didn’t you, Edward?”

Ed couldn’t resist smirking at that. “Don’t you ever read the newspaper?”

“Not recently,” she said, looking surprised.

“Got involved with a crazy alchemist down in Aerugo, but everything was taken care of,” he said, smirking.

“So… you’re not here because you got into trouble?” Winry asked, puzzled again.

“No, Win, that’s not why I’m here,” he said and took a deep breath. Just get it over with. “Winry, before I left, I asked you to marry me.”

She nodded.

Ed forced himself to look directly at her. “I made a mistake.”

 And–there it was. It wasn’t that her face fell; it shattered. It was as if he had taken a hammer and smashed a mirror; shards cracked under the impact of his words and landed in pieces at his feet only to burst into a million pieces.

But she didn’t cry.

Ed was grateful for that. He took another deep breath and forced himself to go on. “I asked you to marry me for all the wrong reasons and on the train, I realized that. I asked you not because I’m in love with you but because I was hurting; from the loss of my alchemy, because Al left for Xing, because I was feeling worthless. I do love you, Winry, but not as a wife and partner. You’re my sister in everything but blood and I’m sorry, but that is all I’ll ever be able to give you.”

Then he stopped and waited for her to speak.

Winry opened her mouth and shut it. She swallowed hard and dropped her gaze to the ground. Her shoulders slumped, her head drooped and she trembled for a moment before lifting her chin, almost defiantly. “You found someone else then?”

“I knew that I wasn’t in love with you before I looked at anyone else, Win,” he said and then could have smacked himself on the forehead.

“There is someone else!” Winry drew herself up, hurt and anger warring on her face. Anger won out. “Some Cretan girl?”

“No, Win.”

“Then who is–”

“I’m gay.”

There was a long, long silence. Winry opened her mouth and shut it several times. Then, “You?”

Ed nodded, forcing himself to meet her eyes.

Winry’s eyes widened and she lifted her hands to cover her mouth. “Oh,” she said, very, very quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“I… don’t know what to say,” she said finally, lowering and then dropping her hands. “Have you always been…?”

“I never really thought about it,” Ed said weakly. “I mean, obviously, there was the whole thing with Al and then his rehabilitation, and then… I thought that if I was interested in girls, it’d be you but… honestly, the thought just alarmed me more than anything else and then there was a guy…” He shifted awkwardly and sighed. “So, yes, there was someone else and I guess you could say there still is.”

Winry looked calmer somehow. Not happy by any stretch of the imagination, but calmer. “I was a safety blanket and then you realized you didn’t need one.”

Ed winced. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m… going to need time to deal with this, Ed.” Her voice was soft and she wasn’t looking him in the eyes.

Ed nodded, thought about patting her shoulder and decided against it. “You can come visit me in Central when you’re ready, if you want. Or, you could call me and I’ll come back.”

Slowly, she nodded. Then turned and walked back toward the town.

Ed waited until she was out of sight before sighing deeply and rubbing a hand across his face. _I’m sorry_ really didn’t seem adequate.

 

He made it back to Central after eight in the evening and staggered through the city to Roy’s house and pounded on the door until it opened and the bastard stood there, in loose, comfy-looking clothes, his hair more tousled than normal. He gave Ed a bemused look and stepped back. “Perhaps it would be a good idea to get you a key,” he said.

Ed walked inside, turned around, waited for Roy to shut the door and turn back to face him.

Then he let Roy draw him close, sweep his bangs aside and kiss his temple. “I think she hates me,” he whispered.

Roy’s arms tightened fractionally but his voice was just as soft as his lips. “I’m sure she doesn’t.”

“I asked her to marry me, Roy. And now I’ve backed out on her.” He gave a weak little laugh. “I would hate me.”

Roy drew him toward the living room with gentle coaxing when the phone rang. He paused, then reluctantly let him go and headed for the kitchen to answer it.

Ed collapsed onto the couch and closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he heard Roy answer, “Mustang residence.”

There was a moment of silence then, “Oh, this is a surprise. I wasn’t aware…” His voice trailed off. Ed could almost hear the cringe in his voice when he spoke again. “I see. You spoke with Colonel Hawkeye. He just got here, if you’d like a word. Of course.” Then louder, “Edward, could you come here?”

Ed heaved himself off the couch even though it was the last thing he wanted to do and slouched into the kitchen. Roy held the phone out to him and he took it, mouthing, “Winry?”

Roy shook his head and retreated out of the room.

Ed lifted the phone to his ear and said, “Edward Elric.”

Ed swallowed hard at the voice that answered and smiled weakly. “Oh, hello, Al.”

_~~~fin~~~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, we're done! I hope you enjoyed it, feel free to comment but don't ask for a continuation because I like it where it is. Oh, and I like to think that Winry had a conversation with Roy like there is in Heart to Heart by salted-shotgun (seeing-ghosts). But the rest of it isn't really relevant to my story sooooooo... yeah.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will end up being around 30,000 words long. Comments and critiques welcome!


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